


Stained Souls

by adamprrishcycle



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, M/M, NSFW, Parent Death, Past Character Death, Physical Abuse, Threats, Verbal Abuse, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-12 07:10:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7090966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adamprrishcycle/pseuds/adamprrishcycle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>It was said that when you met your soulmate, their thoughts about you appeared on your skin. The words could change over time but were impossible to remove if they still remained. And it wasn’t particularly thrilling to know your soulmate thought you were a loser.</em>
</p><p>A pynch soulmate au in which your soulmates thoughts about you appear on your skin like a tattoo. The characters are intrinsically the same, but I've stripped back some of the magic to run with my own storyline.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Adam was going to be late.

He practically jumped down the porch steps and bolted around the side of his parents’ double-wide to grab his bike. He undid the chain quickly and tried not to look at his sweating hands as he yanked the old bike upright and threw one leg over it. He pedalled forwards and out onto the dusty road as the neighbors dog started barking and pulling desperately on the piece of rope that kept him tied to the fence post for most of the day. Adam would usually have stopped to pet him, but not today.

He had woken up at 7am as usual and he’d rolled out of his rickety bed and crossed the room to yank the blinds up to let in some light. But something had made him pause. In the dim light he could just make something on his hands, no, his fingers. He crept across the narrow hallway and shut himself in the tiny bathroom, pulling the cord to turn the light on with a click.

His stomach plummeted at what he saw. Down each of his long fingers was the word “LOSER” in obvious block capitals. He turned to the sink and ran the hot water, knowing it would probably get him in trouble if he used too much, but needing something to wash away the word and the feeling that came with it. He grabbed the bar of soap that was already stained with dirt and he began to scrub at his fingers aggressively, chewing the inside of his mouth as he did so.

But it was no good. The writing wasn’t going anywhere. He turned the water off as there was a light tap on the bathroom door. He knew it would be his mom so he dried his hands quickly and kept them balled into fists as he opened the door.

“You’re late this morning,” she said in a whisper so as not to wake Adam’s dad, her Southern Henrietta accent dominating her speech.

“What?” Adam said and his mother pointed to the clock on the nearby kitchen wall. It was twenty past seven already and he hadn’t even showered yet. He’d got back from a shift at the garage last night and he’d been too tired to wash the sweat and grime from his body so he’d promised himself a shower in the morning.

“Are you done in there?” His mom asked.

“I’ll be two more minutes,” he said and he slipped back into the bathroom and shut the door, wincing as the sharp slap of the door clicking into the frame filled the quiet. He prayed he hadn’t woken his dad.

By the time he was showered and dressed, his hair towel dried and his hands pulled safely inside the sleeves of his Aglionby sweater, he was late.

He pumped his legs as fast as they would go, he couldn’t afford to be late. Adam Parrish was never late for anything. He didn’t like owing people time and he couldn’t stand the thought of the way everyone would turn to stare at him as he entered the classroom.

He turned onto the main road that ran through the heart of town that led all the way to Aglionby Academy and he pushed one last time, the muscles in his legs burning.

There was a sudden jolt underneath him and the handlebars turned abruptly, taking the front wheel with them and Adam was thrown forwards. He landed heavily on his side, his cheek scraping against the concrete at the side of the road.

He scrambled to his feet as an old woman approached him, asking if he was okay. He waved her off as he walked shakily to his bike. The whole of his right side was in agony.

He pulled the bike onto the sidewalk and inspected it and his heart sank as he realized that the front tyre had been punctured and was almost completely deflated. He sighed and began half wheeling it, half dragging it down the street.

“Hey!” Someone called when he’d made it only a few metres. “Parrish.”

Adam turned slowly. He preferred to be ignored when he was out, knowing people could only bring trouble.

An expensive, black BMW was pulled up at the curb and Ronan Lynch was leaning over the passenger seat to look at him.

“You look like you need a ride.” His eyes slid from Adam to the ruined bike and Adam hated him.

He had recently befriended Richard Campbell Gansey III, and while Gansey was pleasant and friendly, Ronan Lynch, his best friend, was the complete polar opposite. Ronan Lynch was everything Adam couldn’t stand. Destructive, aggressive, hot-headed and generally vile. And yet, here he was loading his bike into the trunk of his car and joining him for a ride to school.

“What happened to your face?” Ronan asked, glancing at Adam as he pulled off. Adam was just relieved he hadn’t seen him fall.

“I scraped it,” he said quickly.

“You might wanna clean it out, you’ve got gravel and shit in there,” Ronan said as he watched the road and it struck Adam as an odd thing to come from Ronan Lynch’s mouth. He pulled the sun visor down in front of him and took a look at himself in the mirror. It was something he usually avoided doing. He poked at the wide, open graze and hissed at the pain. He pushed the visor back up to the ceiling and sat back.

“Hey, what’s that on your hand?” Ronan asked and Adam felt his stomach twist.

“Nothing,” he snapped. He didn’t look at Ronan, but he felt him looking anyway. He folded his arms, burying his hands in his armpits.

“Don’t fucking lie, Parrish. What is it? Is it- shit,” he paused and when he spoke again, Adam could hear the mocking smile in his tone. “Have you got your first soulmate stain?”  
‘Soulmate stain’ or occasionally ‘shit stain’ was how people referred to the marks when they were talking about them negatively, so for Ronan to refer to them as that didn’t surprise Adam at all.

Adam had spent his entire life without giving the idea of soulmates a second thought. He knew what it was, he wasn’t ignorant, he just didn’t care much for it. Why should he care about finding his so-called true love when all he could focus on was working his ass off to get out of this town? He didn’t have time for it.

The sight of his first marks appearing on his skin this morning had made him nothing but anxious. It made him feel like someone was watching him. It made him sick that his soulmate probably lived in Henrietta, a place he was trying to leave.

It was said that when you met your soulmate, their thoughts about you appeared on your skin. The words could change over time but were impossible to remove if they still remained. And it wasn’t particularly thrilling to know your soulmate thought you were a loser.

“I said it’s nothing,” Adam said.

“I’ll show you mine,” Ronan offered with a smirk. Adam was momentarily stunned. He didn’t know Ronan had a mark, but then he didn’t really know Ronan so maybe it wasn’t much of a shock after all. But the idea of someone wanting to be with Ronan was puzzling. Who wanted to be insulted and given the cold-shoulder for the rest of their life? Adam tried to come up with a redeeming factor about him but failed.

At this point, Ronan was already rolling his right sleeve up and Adam found his lack of concentration on the road alarming.

“I’d rather you watched the road,” he said and Ronan smiled at him like he was joking, one hand gripping the steering wheel lazily. With his sleeve successfully peeled back, he held it out to Adam.

Adam almost laughed. Ronan had the word “asshole” scrawled down his arm messily like someone had been in a rush but needed desperately for him to know. It managed to appear somehow stark and bold against his darker skin, as though the letters almost glowed from within.

To cover his smirk, Adam frowned.

“So when you’re whining about your own shit stain, remember mine,” Ronan said and he rolled his sleeve down again and didn’t use his turn signal as he pulled into the Aglionby parking lot.

He backed into a space and cut the engine. He turned to Adam and raised his eyebrows, though he managed to simultaneously look bored.

“Well?” He said.

“I don’t owe you anything,” Adam snarled, finding he was more angry at Ronan’s expectant expression than he first thought. Ronan had given him a ride less than half the distance to school and had shown him his mark, though Adam hadn’t asked to see it and now he thought Adam owed him something. Well, Adam didn’t owe him shit.

Ronan’s expression clouded over and Adam opened the door quickly.

“Thanks for the ride,” he snapped, shutting the door and heading towards the English building before Ronan could say anything. He remembered belatedly that his bike was still in Ronan’s car, but he couldn’t stand the thought of going back for it now.

Entering class late was as much fun as he thought it would be. Everyone turned to watch him walk to his seat as he muttered an apology to Mr. Callaghan.

He’d stopped off at the bathroom to tidy up his face a little, but it still looked fresh and angry. His hip hurt more and more as he walked, the fabric of his pants and the bottom of his shirt irritating the broken skin.

“Nice face, Parrish,” someone jeered and the rest of the class laughed along with him.

“That’s enough,” Callaghan scolded. “Do you need to see the nurse, Parrish?”

“No, sir,” Adam said quickly and slid into his seat and Henry Cheng turned to grin at him.

“What happened?” He asked, his eyes roving over Adam’s cheek.

“Fell off my bike,” he mumbled and he waited for Cheng to turn away before he got his books from his bag. Henry Cheng was about the last person he wanted to know about his soulmate stain, it would probably end up in the school newsletter or something. 

 

At the end of the day, Adam walked to the parking lot with his head down and he sped up when he heard someone shouting his name. He didn’t feel like explaining what had happened to his face for the twentieth time that day.

“Parrish, wait,” called the voice, they sounded out of breath. “Hey, Adam.”

Adam finally had no choice but to stop when he reached the BMW. He needed his bike. He turned reluctantly to face the person who was following him and he was more than a little surprised to see that it was Noah Czerny. He was another of Gansey’s friends but he was generally quiet and Adam hadn’t really had much cause to speak to him.

When he stopped in front of Adam he leaned forwards with his hands on his knees, gasping for breath. Adam couldn’t tell if he was putting it on or if he was genuinely exhausted.

“Christ, Adam. Have you ever thought about trying out for the track team?” He squinted up at him, still panting and smiled. It was an oddly familiar thing to say and made Adam feel a little bit uncomfortable. He didn’t know Noah Czerny.

“Where’s Lynch?” Adam asked, ignoring him. “I need my bike. It’s in his car.” He motioned to the back of the impeccable BMW. He tried his best not to look at it because he couldn’t trust himself not to gawk and run a hand over the flawless black paintwork.

Noah grinned as he straightened up and lifted a set of car keys into the air, letting it dangle from his finger by the keyring.

“That’s why I’m here,” he said.

“Where is he?” Adam asked, annoyed at the way Ronan had sent someone else to do his work for him. It was so typical that it made Adam sick.

“I don’t know,” Noah admitted and he pressed the unlock button on the key and the BMW’s headlights flashed once to indicate that it was open. “Gansey just gave me the keys, though how he…” he trailed off and Adam opened the trunk and let Noah help him pull his bike out.

“You’ve got a flat tyre,” Noah pointed out.

“I know,” Adam said and he shut the trunk and began to awkwardly roll his bike away. “Thanks,” he said over his shoulder.

“Wait, Adam.” Noah jogged to keep up with him. “Let us give you a lift.”

“It’s fine, honestly,” Adam assured him and responded politely without looking at him. “I’ve got work now anyway so I’m only around the corner.”

“Okay, then,” Noah said and he stopped, letting Adam go on without him. “See you later!”

Adam walked faster. He didn’t have work at all and due to his stubborn pride, he was going to be late home. Sometimes being late home didn’t matter, he would simply slip into his bedroom unseen. But when he entered the house, he knew he wasn’t going to be so lucky tonight.

“Adam,” came his father’s voice and as Adam closed the door behind him, he looked over at the dining table where his dad sat. There was some kind of dish laid out on the table, it looked like tinned spaghetti, baked in a dish to appear more presentable.

“Hi,” Adam said, trying not to sound too wary, he knew his dad would hate that. He glanced at his mom who was also sat at the table, staring down at her empty plate. “Sorry I’m late,” he added, looking back at his dad.

“Don’t apologize to me,” his dad said in a low voice that made Adam tense all over. “Apologize to your mom.”

Adam’s mom finally looked up at him sheepishly. He saw the faint recognition on her face as her eyes slid to his cheek. He resisted the urge to put his hand over it.

“Sorry, mom,” he said.

“That’s-” she started.

“Sorry for what?” Adam’s dad interrupted, making his mom jump. She clasped her hands together on her lap and looked down again.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said carefully.

“And?”

“And I’m sorry I interrupted dinner like this,” Adam guessed, praying he was saying the right thing.

“You haven’t interrupted dinner,” his dad snapped and Adam flinched involuntarily at his tone. “We haven’t started yet because we were waiting for you. Your mother made this meal for us to eat together as a family and we’ve sat here and watched it go cold as we waited for you, you ungrateful piece of shit.”

“My bike-” Adam began to explain why he was late but his dad cut him off.

“Me and your mom don’t want to hear your fucking excuses,” he said. “We want you to be home when you’re meant to be. We want you to show a little bit of respect.”

His chair toppled to the floor as he pushed out of it and he picked up the untouched pasta dish and walked to the small kitchen area where Adam stood. He threw the dish into the sink and Adam closed his eyes momentarily, wincing at the smashing sound it made.

“Your mom will go hungry tonight because of you,” he hissed and he knocked Adam’s shoulder hard as he passed him to go outside. The door slammed behind him and Adam’s mom began to sob.

“Mom,” Adam said, going over to her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be late. The front tyre on my bike got punctured and I couldn’t ride it and-”

“Stop, Adam,” she said, her eyes red and watery. “Why can’t you just be a good boy? Why do you always have to- to-” She let out another heavy sob. “Why do you always have to make him like that?”

“I don’t,” Adam said simply. He still felt sick with fear from his father’s outburst, but now there was another feeling. Icy anger swirled at the pit of his stomach, climbing up his throat like fingers around his neck. He swallowed hard. _“I don’t,”_ he said again and turned away from her, shutting himself in his bedroom.

He balled his hands into fists as he slept that night and he dreamt about his father’s anger, his mother’s ignorance and the word “LOSER” written across every inch of his body.


	2. Chapter 2

Ronan could see the outline of a person sitting in the drivers seat of his BMW as he approached and he clenched his jaw, patting himself down for his key. It was gone. As he got closer, the figure climbed out and Ronan faltered for a moment, he hadn’t expected it to be Noah. He’d been expecting someone else. He pushed this thought out of his head aggressively and grabbed Noah by the front of his shirt, shoving him up against the side of the BMW hard.

“Lynch, what the-” Noah broke off.

“What the fuck is this?” Ronan demanded. “Where are my keys?”

“If you’d let me go, I could tell you,” Noah said. Ronan released him with another shove and Noah muttered something that sounded like, “psycho.”

“They’re in the ignition,” he said, straightening his shirt.

“Don’t touch my stuff, Czerny,” Ronan snapped and he climbed behind the wheel and shut the door.

He wasn’t mad at Noah, not really. But he’d had better days. He gripped the steering wheel and closed his eyes as he heard his phone vibrate in his pocket. It would be Declan again. He waited for Noah to circle the car and climb into the passenger side, a fresh smile on his face, then he pulled out of the space.

“I’m guessing you gave Parrish his bike,” he commented. “Did you see his face?"

“Yeah. You know, I bet he’s a nice guy, but he’s weird, isn’t he? He’s always brushing me off whenever I talk to him,” Noah said, leaning one elbow on the door.

“He’s got a lot of secrets,” Ronan said simply as he drove.

“What d'ya mean?” Noah asked.

“I don’t fucking know, that’s why they’re called secrets,” he replied.

They arrived at Nino’s, a place known for it’s passably flavorsome pizza, milkshakes the size of your arm and Raven Boys. The amount of Aglionby students who went to Nino’s almost made it pass as an extra curricular activity.

Ronan slumped down in a booth near the back and looked out of the window. He’d already checked the parking lot for the cars belonging to the people he didn’t want to see, but it never hurt to check again.

A small girl with wild, short, black hair approached them in a Nino’s apron, with a notepad and an obviously fake smile. She looked about half Ronan’s height but the look in her eyes said: “don’t mess with me, shithead.” Ronan let Noah order for them and when he was done he sat back in his seat as the girl walked away.

“She must be new,” he said and Ronan caught the look on his face.

“Talk to her, I dare you. Then we’ll watch you walk around with no balls after she’s cut them off.”

“Oh, come on. She wasn’t that bad,” Noah said.

“When you were looking down at the menu, she was looking at the back of your neck like she wanted to stab her fucking pen into it.” Ronan said just as the girl came back over with two cokes and a banana milkshake.

“Thank you,” Noah beamed up at her and she gave another forced smile and disappeared again. Noah turned to Ronan. “See.”

“See what?”

“She just smiled at me,” Noah said.

“Are you talking about the new waitress?” Gansey asked, appearing out of nowhere and sliding into the booth next to Ronan. He had stayed a little over at the end of the day for some sort of tutoring scheme that Ronan had no interest in. He pulled one of the cokes towards him and took a long drink. Noah nodded eagerly.

“Adam and I were in here the other day and she was… Something,” he said.

“Adam Parrish?” Ronan asked and Gansey nodded.

“Her name’s Blue,” Gansey continued and Noah grinned at this piece of information. “I tried to talk to her for Adam but she uh, she got very angry at me.”

“Parrish is interested in her?” Ronan asked.

Gansey shrugged and went back to his coke. He was hiding something.

“What is it, Dick?”

Gansey looked to Noah for help but Noah was watching Blue across the room. He swallowed and pushed his almost empty glass away.

“It’s nothing, it’s just that…” He trailed off and Ronan hit his shoulder with the back of his hand to urge him on. “After I spoke to her, I went home and- and I found something.”

“Where?” Ronan asked. “In your pants? I didn’t know you could get an STD from just standing next to someone.”

Gansey shook his head. “Shut up. No, it’s on my leg.” He lowered his voice. “A soulmate mark.”

Ronan dropped his smirk. “What does it say?”

“It’s, uh… It says ‘stuck-up rich boy’.”

Ronan checked his face to make sure he wasn’t joking, then burst out laughing, along with Noah who had been listening despite watching Blue. A few people looked over at them.  
“It’s so good, I can’t even decide which is the best part,” Ronan said.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Noah’s smile vanished. “Does that mean Blue’s your soulmate?”

“Yeah, unless someone else thinks I’m a stuck-up rich boy,” Gansey said a little sheepishly.

“Oh, shit,” Ronan exclaimed. “In that case, I might be your soulmate then.”

“Shut up,” Gansey said again and he grabbed Ronan’s coke and began to drink it, despite Ronan’s protests. ” _Yours_ could literally be anyone.“

Ronan put a hand over his arm defensively and changed the subject. “So did you put Noah up to stealing my keys?”

“Nope,” Gansey said. “I stole them myself.”

“How?” Ronan was genuinely astonished.

“You fell asleep in World History,” Gansey said. “It was like taking candy from a baby.” He and Noah shared a smirk.

“I think you’re supposed to kiss the babies if you’re trying to get anywhere, your mom could give you some tips,” Ronan said, glaring between them.

“Are you asking Gansey to kiss you? Because if you need some privacy…” Noah said and he made to get out of his seat but came face-to-face with Blue holding two steaming pizzas.

“Sorry,” he said, barely dodging the collision. “Do you need some-”

“I’ve got it,” Blue snapped and slid the pizzas onto the table. As she straightened up again, she caught Gansey’s eye and when it had seemed her mood couldn’t get any worse, it did.

“Hi,” Gansey said. “I’m sorry about the other night. I didn’t mean to come off so-”

“Arrogant? Pompous? Sexist?” Blue said with a hand on her hip. “I can go on if you’d like.”

Gansey had turned a bright shade of red and Ronan couldn’t help but find it amusing.

“That won’t be necessary. I, uh- I’m sorry for being, well, all that,” he said.

“Good,” she said. “Enjoy your food.”

Ronan watched both boys staring after her and sighed heavily, reaching for a slice of pizza.

He walked to his car alone after they’d eaten. They usually shared a ride to and from school but since Ronan had been late this morning, Gansey had left without him. Noah was riding home with Gansey which left Ronan to pull his phone from his back pocket and scroll through the text notifications and missed calls.

_Missed Call from Declan Lynch 12 minutes ago._

_Missed Call from Declan Lynch 23 minutes ago._

_Missed Call from Declan Lynch 29 minutes ago._

_Missed Call from Declan Lynch 35 minutes ago._

Angry texts were dispersed between the calls and Ronan deleted them all without reading them.

He didn’t have time for his older brother tonight. He got into the front seat of his car and closed his eyes. He tried to focus his mind on something that wasn’t the hatred churning inside his stomach. He hated Declan. He hated himself for hating Declan. 

So he thought about Adam Parrish. He looked over at the passenger seat where Adam had sat only that morning with his face scraped raw from the fall off his bike and his hands trembling as he inspected the mess in the mirror. There was something endlessly frustrating about him. He had cunning eyes and a naturally down-turned mouth. He was quiet and unsuspecting, yet when he opened his mouth, he could spit poison. Ronan liked that. 

Everyone knew Adam lived in a trailer with his deadbeat parents and was attending Aglionby on a scholarship. Everyone knew Adam worked at least two jobs to keep himself afloat. Ronan knew he worked three. 

He twisted the keys in the ignition and the BMW growled to life and for a moment he watched the dashboard with it’s orange glow and he revved the gas, watching the needle on the dial spin. 

Once he was out on the road, he found himself watching the rearview mirror for a white Mitsubishi, it’s gaping grill like a mouth waiting to swallow the road up. But Joseph Kavinsky, the epitome of Henrietta trash, was the last person Ronan wanted to see tonight. Well, after Declan. So he drove back to Monmouth Manufacturing and was happy to see that Gansey’s orange Camaro was already parked up.

He entered the old factory building and headed upstairs, breathing in the familiar smell of dust and decay. The door to where the boys resided was already unlocked so he pushed it open and stepped inside.

He froze.

“What _the fuck_ are you doing here?” He snarled. 

“Try answering your phone once in a while,” Declan snapped back, striding over to Ronan. Gansey was sitting on the couch and he gave Ronan a strange look. 

“I said, what the fuck are you doing here?”

Declan stopped a few feet away and glared at Ronan with an intensity that would have made anyone else flinch.  
“It’s mom,” Declan said and this time Ronan did flinch. 

Just over a year ago, he had found his father on the driveway outside their house lying face-up with his forehead caved in. The engine in his car was still running and the driver’s door hung open. While Niall Lynch breathed his last breath, Aurora Lynch fell into a coma that medical professionals from all over the world couldn’t understand. The Lynch brothers, Declan, Ronan and their younger sibling Matthew, had been paying to keep her on life support ever since.  
“What about her?” Ronan demanded. They took it in turns to take Matthew with them to visit her. They never went together. 

Declan averted his eyes and Ronan’s pulse quickened. He glanced at Gansey who was staring down at his hands. He wanted to say the inevitable, he wanted to say, “she’s gone, hasn’t she?” But he waited. He watched Declan stare at the floor and he waited as he felt his body go hot all over, then cold again as though he’d been plunged into ice water.  
Declan finally spoke and the words seemed to rattle around the room. Ronan’s heart leapt.

“She’s awake.”


	3. Chapter 3

Adam had successfully managed to scavenge a new tyre for his bike from a scrap pile in the dusty mess of the backyard and he fitted it with ease, standing back with his hands on his hips to see his bike returned to its former shabby glory. He enjoyed fixing broken things, it gave him a sense of pride and relief. He rubbed the back of his hand over the moisture that had gathered on his forehead and felt the tyre pressure again.

“Adam,” came a voice from behind him. It was a familiar voice, though not familiar in his current surroundings. He turned in panic to see Gansey striding across the dirt as though he were striding across the lawn at Aglionby, wearing khaki shorts and a blue polo shirt.

“Oh, hey,” Adam said, quickly wiping his sweaty hands on his already filthy cargo pants.

“You fixed your bike, that’s great,” Gansey said and he smiled down at it as he came to stand beside him. He seemed unfazed by the dirt, the scrap metal, the line of trailers at his back. Adam couldn’t decide how he felt about that.

“Yeah, it was only a punctured tyre,” he said. He’d stopped feeling awkward around Gansey a few weeks ago, but now that Gansey was seeing him differently for the first time, he felt uncomfortable. This was too much exposure.

“So, there’s this monument up on the Ridge,” Gansey started as though ‘the Ridge’ was a place that Adam often considered. He knew people went hiking up there, but he didn’t really have much time to hike himself. He guessed Gansey probably did. “Really old thing. Anyway, me and Noah were gonna go up there today, only he cancelled on me last minute. So I was wondering if you wanted to come?”

Adam stared. It was typical really, Richard Gansey III asking if he wanted to go hiking on a Saturday afternoon, though what was more typical was that he was asking Adam to come along because Noah had cancelled. Gansey didn’t want to go alone so he’d gone for his last resort, Adam Parrish.

“It’s not really my thing,” he said slowly, he went to take hold of the handlebars of his bike to lead it away but he quickly remembered the words on his fingers and snatched them back. He wondered if Gansey had seen.

“Oh,” Gansey said. “Hey, that’s alright. We could do something else instead. What do you want to do?”

Adam found himself staring again. Gansey was acting like they’d planned to spend the day together. A sudden thought occurred to him.

“Where’s Lynch?”

“He’s out of town,” Gansey replied with an easy smile. “Family stuff.”

Adam wondered what he meant by that. Everyone knew about Ronan’s family. His father was dead, his mother was in a coma and his older brother was a stuck up prick and a womanizer. His younger brother was a nice kid, but that was probably the only normal thing about the Lynch family.

“Family stuff,” Adam repeated. “Right.”

“Do you want to go for a drive?” Gansey asked. Adam bit at his bottom lip and realizing what he was doing, stopped abruptly. Adam liked cars. He liked the ins and outs of them. He liked the way he could take them apart and put them back together. He liked seeing them drive off, engine grumbling after he’d fixed them up.

If there was a car Adam loved, it was Gansey’s carrot orange Camaro. It was temperamental and often sounded like an unhealthy lawn mower, but it was glorious.

He looked back at his parents’ double-wide, not entirely sure what he was looking for. If it was a reason to leave, it was staring him right in the face. He’d only be gone an hour at most.

“Alright,” he said and Gansey beamed at him.

***

Ronan dialled Gansey’s number and pressed his phone to his ear so hard it hurt. He paced up and down outside the front entrance of the hospital as it rang. And rang, and rang.

“Hi, it’s Adam,” said the phone at last, or rather, said the person on the other end of the phone. Ronan was thrown for a second and held the device away from himself. The screen clearly read ‘Gansey’. He sighed. He was not in the mood for this.

“Put Gansey on,” he growled.

“He’s driving,” Adam said. Ronan had never heard his voice over the phone before. He sounded different.

“That’s great, put him on.” He was quickly losing his patience.

“He wants to speak to you,” he heard Adam say but he didn’t hear Gansey’s reply, the crappy engine of the Camaro drowned out all other sounds. Of course I want to speak to him, that’s why I rang his fucking number, he thought viciously.

All of a sudden the engine cut out. They must have stopped.

“Ronan, hey. What is it? How’s it going?” It was Gansey’s voice.

“I need you to come and get me,” he said and he tried to keep the tremble from his voice but it crept out. Hearing Gansey’s voice wasn’t helping with his emotional stability.. He wiped at his eyes aggressively. “Right now,” he added in a snarl.

“Are you at the hospital?” Gansey asked, tone serious.

“Yeah,” he said and he hung up. He knew Gansey’s next question would be: “are you okay?” He didn’t need asking if he was okay. He wasn’t. He just needed someone to come and get him.

The hospital was a good forty five minute drive from Henrietta and had seemed even longer that morning. Ronan had planned to drive down in his own car, away from Declan, but Matthew had insisted they all ride together. At first Ronan had refused, but he had given up in the end. Now he was regretting it.

He’d seen his mother awake for the first time in just over a year, but all he felt was a gaping emptiness in his chest. It was like being sixteen all over again. It was as though he had lost her for a second time. She wasn’t the same as she had been before. He wondered if Declan was right, he wondered if it would be better off if she had died.

Declan had tried to talk to her but she only stared at him blankly, running a hand mindlessly over her wrist where a soulmate mark still remained, though it looked more like a scar now. He had gone to still her hand and she had started screaming. She screamed and screamed until a nurse ran in. They left her alone for a while and Matthew had cried in the waiting room. Ronan had put an arm around him and Declan had paced. When Matthew disappeared to the bathroom for five minutes, Declan had turned to Ronan and demanded he say it.

“Say what?” Ronan asked.

“That we’d be better off if she’d just died,” Declan hissed. Ronan glared at him. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. No matter what had happened to their mom, she was still their mom. They still loved her.

“Don’t you dare say that in front of Matthew,” Ronan said. It was as though their roles were reversed. Declan was the volatile one while Ronan gave him empty threats. Although Ronan’s threat was anything but empty.

He skulked across the parking lot to sit on the low wall by the entrance. He didn’t want Declan coming out and looking for him. When they’d gone back into their mother’s room, she had looked at him for the first time. She looked at him like she hated him. He told his brothers he had to leave and they let him.

He heard the Camaro before he saw it and he got to his feet, glancing over at the hospital doors. It had been an hour and Declan and Matthew hadn’t come out yet.

Although he’d known Gansey was with Adam, he hadn’t expected Adam to be in the passenger seat, a curious but somehow hostile look on his messed up face. It actually looked worse today. He climbed out as they pulled up and got into the back without saying a word. Ronan didn’t have time to be grateful and climbed into the front.

“Hey,” Gansey said. “You good?”

Ronan nodded.

“How did it go?” He asked and Ronan tilted his head slightly to remind Gansey of Adam’s presence.

“Let’s just not, okay?” He said and crossed his arms over his chest. “I just wanna go.”

They drove for a good few miles before they had to pull in somewhere to get gas. When Gansey got out to fill the tank, the silence in the car became heavy.

Ronan could hear the shuffle as Adam moved his arm and leant it against the window. He let out a small sigh and Ronan glanced at him in the side mirror only to find Adam staring back at him. Ronan was the first to look away.

“So, you’ve been hanging out with Gansey today,” he said to diffuse the awkwardness, it wasn’t really a question.

“Yeah,” Adam answered. “Who were you visiting at the hospital?”

Ronan caught another look at him in the mirror only to meet his eyes again. He looked forwards. “My mom.”

“How’s she doing?” Adam asked.

Ronan clenched and unclenched his jaw. “She’s doing alright. She’s awake.” He didn’t wait for Adam to respond. “Hey, you still need to show me your hand.”

Adam was silent for a moment and when Ronan looked in the mirror, he seemed to be looking down at his hands in his lap.

“Oh, come on, Parrish. You can’t honestly tell me it’s worse than mine.”

He heard rather than saw Adam lean forwards and then his hands were there, hovering over the central console. Ronan didn’t give hands a second thought usually, but Adam’s hands made him pause. There was a dusting of freckles on the back of them that painted easily over the ridges his knuckles made. His skin was tan from a lifetime spent in the Henrietta sun but you could still make out the bruised blues and purples of his veins. His fingers were long and slender, ending in nails that were chewed savagely short. It was his fingers that held the mark.

The word “LOSER” was printed down each digit, drawing attention away from the rest of the beauty.

“Well, I’ve gotta say,” Ronan started, pushing his original thoughts aside, “your soulmate knows you. They really, truly know you.”

“Fuck off, Lynch,” Adam said and he sat back again. Ronan had never heard him swear before. Something about it felt exciting.

“Maybe it’s that waitress girl, Blue?” He said and he twisted in his seat to look at Adam. He had balled his hands into fists and he glared back at Ronan.

“You don’t even-” he broke off, sighing heavily.

“Or could it be one of those babes from the trailer park? Don’t hold out on me, Parrish.” He paused and laughed. Sometimes he just got a kick out of being unpleasant. Adam was staring at him like he was a second away from hitting him. He hoped he would hit him.

“Or maybe it’s a guy from school,” he said, raising an eyebrow. He was feeling Adam out, trying to test him, trying to make him snap.

“Why don’t you-” Adam started, his teeth gritted and his knuckles white, but he never finished his sentence because at that moment Gansey opened the door. He climbed in with an easy smile on his face and Ronan turned back around, slumping heavily into his seat.

Gansey’s smiled faltered when he caught sight of Ronan’s expression.

“What is it?”

“Parrish can’t take a fucking joke,” Ronan said and Gansey looked at Adam.

“It doesn’t matter,” Adam said dismissively. “He’s just being an asshole.”

“Woah, you can read,” Ronan said and lifted his arm, though he was wearing a jacket that covered his mark. “Fucking loser.”

“Ronan, seriously?” Gansey said, he was frowning now. “Stop it. I know you’re not in the best place right now but-”

“Oh fuck off, Dick,” Ronan snapped. “Just drive your shitty fucking car so we can get home and I can get away from both of you.”

“Your attitude is abysmal,” Adam said as Gansey started the engine.

“And you’re fucking pathetic,” Ronan spat back. He didn’t know if he could face an entire forty five minute drive in a confined space with him. With either of them. Maybe the ride home with Declan wouldn’t have been so bad.

They drove in silence, except for the scratchy quality of the radio which Gansey refused to turn off. The sun was gradually sinking in the sky and it had a hazy feel to it.

When they passed the sign that announced ‘Welcome to Henrietta’ in big, bold, happy letters, Ronan asked Gansey to pull over.

“Aren’t you coming home?” Gansey asked.

“It’s Saturday night,” Ronan said simply and got out of the car. He watched the Camaro drive off as he pulled his phone out. He tapped out a message.

_“I’m at the south henrietta sign”_

The reply came quick, as usual: _“be there in 10 hang tight babe”_

Ronan shuddered and waited. It felt longer than ten minutes. He checked the time, it had been fifteen. The white Mitsubishi executed a perfect U-turn in the road and stopped inches away from where Ronan stood. He opened the passenger door and got in.


	4. Chapter 4

When Ronan woke, he was disoriented. But he’d often awoken not knowing where he was or who he was with, so it was no cause for concern. Having to drag his head from the pillow, the backseat of a car or, in this case, the floor wasn’t the worst part. Looking around at his surroundings and trying to see through the fog of the previous night or the previous day, or the previous night before that wasn’t the worst part either.

Remembering why he was here in the first place. That was the worst. The ugly truth. The moment when you step back from yourself and see your twisted timeline like hot glue, stretched thin in some places, while thick and congealed in others.

As Ronan sat up and looked around the room where he had passed out, he knew this was one of those knots that he couldn’t simply work out of his system. The alcohol had chased his thoughts away for a day, maybe two, but now it had spat him out the other side. It always did, but he never learned.

He rubbed his face as he got to his feet, catching himself on the wall as he stumbled. There were dark curtains drawn over the window but he could see sunlight shining around the edges. It was a small bedroom with a single bed and there was a heavily-breathing, person-shaped lump lying underneath the sheet.

He resisted the urge that usually overtook him that told him to run, run, run and he approached the window, peeling back the curtains to look outside. He was in the centre of Henrietta. He was just down the road from his local Catholic church. He felt relief. He’d woken in far worse places.

“Would you close the damn curtains,” said the person-shaped lump in the bed. Male. Familiar.

“Is this your place?” Ronan asked and he turned to look at Prokopenko as he let the curtains fall closed again.

“Yeah,” Prokopenko said, rolling onto his back and rubbing at his eyes. “I live here with my grandma. You don’t remember?”

“The fuck would I remember?“ Ronan said and feeling lightheaded, sat down at the end of the bed.

Despite being Kavinsky’s right-hand man and for all intents and purposes, his bitch, Prokopenko was alright. He was a little crazy and a little needy, but he was almost verging on pleasant which was a damn sight better than the rest of Kavinsky’s pack of dogs.

“You know he gave you pills, right?” Prokopenko said, shifting into a sitting position with his back against the headboard. The sheet fell, revealing his bare chest and he winced a little as though it pained him to move. If there was one thing Ronan could count on, it was for Prokopenko to tell him the truth.

“It wasn’t hard to guess,” Ronan said. He relied on alcohol for his blackouts usually, but if Kavinsky was involved, he usually got him using something worse and Ronan never remembered taking it.

But there was something grating on his mind. Something that had happened that was dark red. He wondered if it had been the pills.

“Where is he?” He asked and Prokopenko shrugged. He kicked his sheet off and rolled out of the bed, picking up a packet of cigarettes and a lighter off the nightstand. He headed for the door and Ronan noticed the wadding of hastily taped bandages on his left shoulder blade. He remembered taping the bandage there himself.

“What happened to your back?” He asked and he could feel the dark red memory surfacing as Prokopenko turned to face him with a raised eyebrow.

“Don’t tell me his fucking zombie pills cut that out as well,” he said.

“What the fuck happened?” Ronan demanded. His hands had been covered in blood, he remembered his hands being covered in blood. He looked down at his shirt and saw that there were streaked bloodstains on it. He remembered washing his hands in the warm stream of a shower as Kavinsky stood underneath it, still fully clothed, his hands and arms covered in blood as well. He’d called Ronan a nightmare and Ronan had thought about drowning him in return.

“K happened. K always fucking happens,” he said, but he didn’t sound bitter as he pulled a cigarette from the pack.

“What did he do?” Ronan asked.

“Well _you_ found the stain on my shoulder that I’ve been trying to hide from him for a week. Then he got mad and _you_ held me down while he cut it off.”

Ronan suddenly felt sick and it wasn’t from the alcohol and poison sloshing around in his stomach.

“He… Cut it off?” He repeated slowly, not quite believing even as he felt the memory coming loose.

Prokopenko nodded and ripped the bandage away, turning to show Ronan the open wound where the skin had been clearly sawed and peeled back. Ronan had to look away.

“I thought it would feel good, knowing he was jealous like that,” he said, opening the bedroom door, his expression had grown cold. “But I think he was just getting off on you pinning me down while I cried like a little bitch.”

“Proko-” Ronan started, not really sure what he meant to say but Prokopenko turned and headed down the hallway.

Ronan followed him down the stairs, but stopped at the door that led out onto the street and rushed outside. He walked fast with his head down, overly conscious of the blood on his shirt. He pulled out his phone. It was dead. He shoved it back into his pocket.

***

“Are you okay?” Gansey asked when Adam got into the car. He knew why Gansey was asking. He knew what he looked like. There was a bruise across his cheekbone that spread up, leaving his eye bloodshot where a few capillaries had burst and bled out across the white of his eyeball. There was no way to hide it that didn’t involve skipping school, and like hell he was going to miss a day of school after he’d worked so hard to get in.

“I’m fine,” he said automatically. He knew what kind of day he was going to have today. He thought the marks on his fingers had been a problem. Now he had one on the side of his neck, just before his skin sloped across to his shoulder. It was embarrassing. It was beyond embarrassing. It had also warranted a punch in the face.

Gansey cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly as he began the drive to school. Adam never let Gansey give him a ride, but some mornings he would just pull up outside the double-wide and Adam had no choice.

He had a jacket on, despite the warm morning, and he had pulled the collar up to cover his neck as much as possible.

“Lynch back yet?” He asked, just for something to say.

Gansey shook his head. “His phone must have died because it’s just going to voicemail now.”

It was Tuesday and Ronan hadn’t been back home to Monmouth Manufacturing since they dropped him off at the side of the road on Saturday evening. Adam hadn’t cared much at first, but now it was beginning to bother him. Who just disappeared and didn’t tell anyone?

“I know who he’s with,” Gansey said, referring to Joseph Kavinsky, a Bulgarian-Jersey scumbag who Adam absolutely detested.

“Does that make you confident that he’s alright?” Adam said. He hadn’t meant to snap, but he was doing it a lot recently.

Gansey shook his head again and they drove the rest of the way in silence.

The first person to notice Adam’s new mark was a boy in advanced physics called Tomas Casillas. He asked Adam what was on his neck. Adam told him it was nothing. Casillas reached out to pull his collar down. Adam had flinched and jumped to his feet, causing his stool to topple over backwards. Everyone turned to stare. Kevin Sing, who was sitting on the row in front of Adam said it first.

“Beautiful hands?”

The whole class was sniggering and turning to look at him and his black eye seemed to throb as they stared. The teacher was struggling to regain their attention.

“Let’s see them then,” Casillas said and Adam curled his hands into fists. The last thing he wanted was for them to see his fingers as well.

By the end of the day, he was exhausted. With his head down and his hands deep in his pockets he walked to the parking lot to wait for Gansey. He wished he had work tonight, but it was one of his odd nights off. He wished he’d cycled to school at least.

He stopped by the Camaro only to glance across and see Ronan Lynch sitting in his BMW two spaces over, the engine purring softly as it idled.

He approached slowly and Ronan locked eyes with him, but didn’t smile. It seemed like an invitation enough, so Adam climbed into the passenger seat.

“Where the hell have you been?” He asked.

Ronan looked sick. His eyes were glassy, the whites more of a yellow color and his dark skin seemed paler and gray-ish. The only thing alive about him was the red flush in his cheeks. Adam hoped he didn’t have a fever.

“What’s it to you? We’re not friends,” he said and his voice was thick.

“I’m friends with Gansey, so we’re friends by association,” Adam said and Ronan smiled a bit. It wasn’t a nice smile, but it was a relief to see him have some sort of expression on his face.

“Therapy,” he said finally. “That’s where I’ve been.”

“Right,” Adam said.

“Right,” Ronan repeated.

When Adam looked across at him, he was looking back. He hated the feel of his eyes on his bruised cheek and-

His hand shot to the side of his neck to cover the mark there, but it was probably too late, Ronan would have already seen it.

“Don’t,” he said. “I’ve had enough shit about it today.”

“Who hit you?” Ronan asked, seeming to ignore the mark completely. If he hadn’t decided to talk about Adam’s bruise instead, he would have been grateful.

“No one, I-”

“Don’t bullshit me, Parrish. I know a punch when I see one.” He blinked expectantly at Adam, waiting for an explanation.

“It wasn’t a big deal. It was just a bit of a misunderstanding and to be honest I’d been-” Adam started, his palms sweating.

“I said drop the fucking bullshit. Who hit you?” Ronan’s face was emotionless and cold. Adam swallowed, scared to speak, scared to admit something he’d never admitted to anyone before.

He looked down at his hands. They were rough, his knuckles sticking out awkwardly, his nails chewed down to nothing. They weren’t beautiful hands.

“My dad,” he said.

Ronan hardly reacted. “This the first time?”

“No.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

“What does that mean?”

He frowned. “It’s just means okay.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped open a message before putting it away without replying.

There was a sudden sharp knock on the driver’s side window that made them both jump. It was Gansey. Ronan rolled the window down casually.

“You idiot. You absolute, inconsiderate bastard.”

“Nice to see you too,” Ronan said and Adam could see the edge of his smirk.

“It’s not funny, Ronan. I’ve had no idea where you’ve been. What if you got into trouble? What if you needed help?”

Adam had never seen Gansey so angry before, it was fascinating to watch.

“I’m fine. Look at me, I’m fine, aren’t I?” Ronan said.

“That’s not the-” he took a step away from the window and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I know,” Ronan said at last and Gansey stared at him, looking as shocked as Adam felt at Ronan admitting he’d possibly done something wrong. “I know it isn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” Gansey said and his anger fizzled down, but didn’t go out completely. “I need to give Adam a ride home.”

Adam didn’t like the way he said it.

“I’ll take him,” Ronan said.

“I don’t know if-”

“He’s already in my car,” he turned to Adam, “seatbelt on, Parrish.”

Gansey held his hands up in surrender and stepped back as Ronan reversed out of the space.

“You live out on the trailer park, right?” Ronan said as they drove.

“Yeah,” Adam said, wishing so badly that he could say no and direct Ronan to a nicer part of town. Maybe he could just get out and walk from here.

Ronan’s phone kept buzzing almost continuously and eventually he pulled it from his pocket and tossed it to Adam. He hadn’t been expecting it to come his way and it fell onto the floor by his feet.

“Just tell me what he wants,” Ronan said when Adam had retrieved it and held it gingerly in his hands. He had never owned a cell phone. He pressed the button on the front experimentally and the screen lit up. There were multiple messages from “K”. He scanned what he could see without actually opening them.

“He wants to meet up with you and, um, something about something you did. God, I don’t know, would it kill him to spell ‘you’ with a Y and an O?” he said and he held the phone back out to Ronan, but he continued to watch the road and didn’t take it.

“What time do you have to be home?” He asked suddenly and it struck Adam as thoughtful.

“Well, there’s a game on tonight so either seven before it starts, or after ten when it’s finished,” he said. It felt good to tell the truth for once. It felt good that Ronan would understand why he was explaining it like this, even if the reason itself wasn’t a good one.

Ronan didn’t look at him like he was thinking about it, weighing the pros and cons or even pitying him, he just smiled. It was a dangerous smile, but not in the way Adam had come to know. It was the kind of smile that made Adam able to picture why Ronan had a soulmate mark in the first place. He’d seen it on him before when he was with Gansey and Noah, or when he was playing tennis, or driving too fast in his car, but this was the first time it had been because of Adam- no, _for_ Adam. He couldn’t help but smile back.

They didn’t go to the trailer park and instead, Ronan pulled in at a diner called Big Joe’s. Adam was thankful they weren’t going to Nino’s.

Once they were sat in a booth by the window, Ronan called Gansey.

“I’m at Adam’s. I’m fine though… No, I’m not lying… Do you want to speak to him? Because you- No, he’s here. Adam, speak to him please.” He thrust the phone into Adam’s hand.

“Hi.”

“Hey, is everything alright?“ Gansey’s voice. “Because if you don’t want him at your place, I’ll come and get him.”

“No, it’s fine.”

He handed the phone back to Ronan, feeling the conversation was over and Ronan ended the call.

Ronan ordered a burger, fries, onion rings, mozzarella sticks and a large coke. Adam ordered a BLT and some water.

Ronan talked idly about cars and school and Gansey and when their food came, Adam found himself wondering what they were doing here. He’d never agreed to get crappy diner food with Ronan Lynch.

As predicted, Ronan couldn’t eat everything he’d ordered and offered it to Adam, stressing that it would only go to waste now. He carried on talking casually and didn’t stare while Adam finished off the fries and onion rings.

When the bill came, Ronan paid for what he’d bought and nothing else. Adam was relieved that he hadn’t offered to pay for him as well. It always felt like charity when Gansey did it, whereas Ronan treated Adam like an equal and he liked that.

On their way out Ronan went through the door, but stopped to hold it open with one hand as he waited for Adam to catch up.

“You know Prokopenko, right?” He said as they walked across the parking lot to the BMW.

“What?” Adam said. He hadn’t seen the white Mitsubishi parked next to it yet. When he saw it, he paused. He’d spoken to Joseph Kavinsky maybe three times in his life and every time had been unpleasant. He knew Prokopenko, of course. He was alright. He wasn’t likeable, but he was alright. Adam felt sick.

“Pity dating now, Lynch?” Kavinsky said as he approached them.

“I haven’t got time for your bullshit tonight,” Ronan snapped. “Tell me what you needed to tell me and we’ll be done with it.”

“I’m never done with it,” Kavinsky replied, smirking.

Prokopenko appeared beside Kavinsky after climbing out of the Mitsubishi and didn’t even spare Adam a glance, piercing Ronan with a stare. There was a lot more going on here than Adam knew about. He didn’t appreciate that Ronan was trying to include him.

“What happened to your face, Parrish?” Kavinsky asked, his lip curling threateningly. “Bit of a domestic down at the trailer park?”

Adam didn’t have time to react before Ronan had grabbed the front of Kavinsky’s shirt and shoved him hard against the side of the Mitsubishi.

“Your face is gonna look a lot worse than his in a minute,” Ronan snarled.

“Guys, come on,” Prokopenko said, trying to diffuse the situation and it sounded like Gansey talking to Ronan and Noah. It was strange to think of these people as Ronan’s friends, but to some degree, they probably were.

“Tell me what you needed to tell me,” Ronan said into Kavinsky’s face without letting him go.

“It’s about your dad,” Kavinsky said and Adam blinked once and he was on the floor. Ronan had thrown him to the ground in a matter of seconds and he stood over him, staring down with a look of thunder on his face.

“Say shit about my dad,” Ronan threatened and Kavinsky laughed. Ronan planted a kick into his stomach and he choked and curled over.

“Lynch, don’t,” Prokopenko said seriously. “You need to know about this.”

Ronan turned to look at him and shot a quick glance at Adam.

“I want to hear it from you, not him,” he said and Adam watched as Kavinsky managed to pull himself to his feet.

“Go on, Proko,” he said. Adam had forgotten about their strange relationship, of course Prokopenko needed permission.

Prokopenko looked at Adam for the first time. “Can he be here?”

Ronan nodded.

“It’s this soulmate shit,” Prokopenko started. “The chemicals it releases in your brain, they’re poisonous and-”

“Yeah, we know that,” Ronan interrupted. “Just enough to not be too much. We know all about that.”

“Shut up,” Kavinsky snapped and Ronan glared at him.

“Ever heard of a time when its been too much?” Prokopenko went on and Ronan shook his head. “No, you haven’t. But it’s happened and they’ve covered it up. It’s the chemicals, they warp and there’s this cluster of cells in your brain that get fucked up, they mutate. They send you mad or they just shut you off completely.”

Ronan was looking as though someone had just dropped down dead in front of him.

“Why do you think someone wanted your dad dead?” Prokopenko asked and Ronan didn’t speak so he continued. “He found out about what the government have been covering up and he tried to expose it, so they killed him and made it look like some dodgy business deal gone wrong.”

“And your mom, she has it,” Kavinsky added. “That’s why she’s-”

“She’s awake,” Ronan snapped.

“How do you know all this?” Adam asked, speaking up for the first time. All three boys turned to look at him.

“My dad isn’t just a businessman. He has to get his hands dirty sometimes,” Kavinsky said and when he turned to Ronan again, he wasn’t smiling. “He killed Niall Lynch.”

Ronan didn’t react, he simply turned and walked to the BMW and climbed into the driver’s seat. Adam knew he would leave him behind if he didn’t move quickly.

Ronan drove like the devil was trying to drag him back to hell. Ronan drove like he wanted to wrap the BMW around a tree. Adam prayed they weren’t going to die tonight.

Then just like that, he pulled over at the side of the highway and the stillness all around them made Adam’s shaking hands feel too loud. But then Ronan was crying. Fast, hot, angry tears and he wiped his nose with the back of his hand aggressively.

“I’m sorry,” Adam offered, feeling awkward and uncomfortable and sad all at the same time.

“Shut up, Parrish,” Ronan snapped so Adam did.

He thought about the mutation Prokopenko had talked about and he wondered if it was genetic. He wondered if Ronan was going to get it too. He found himself watching him, praying that Ronan’s mind wouldn’t fall apart.

There was a smudge on Ronan’s jaw that looked like dirt or ink or gasoline. Adam’s hand went to his new mark on the side of his neck and he imagined he could feel the poison humming under his skin.

_Beautiful hands._

Since the morning he’d woken up with the word, “loser” staining his fingers, he’d only shown his hands to one person. Marks could be delayed, he knew that, but this felt deliberate. He looked down at his hands and he looked back at Ronan.

_Asshole._

He reached out slowly and closed his fingers around one of Ronan’s hands that rested in this lap. He didn’t know why he did it and he didn’t allow himself to think about it.

Ronan sniffed and looked down. He didn’t pull his hand away. 

He stopped crying and still they sat there. 

The silence was untouchable.


	5. Chapter 5

It was 10:22 on the dashboard in Ronan’s car and Adam forgot to be embarrassed about the trailer park in the darkness as they drove slowly along the dusty track.

“This is it,” he said as Ronan cruised up to his parents double-wide. He cut the engine completely and the headlights went out, leaving them in complete darkness. Adam could see the light spilling from tiny trailer windows along the row, but apart from that, nothing. The crickets and cicadas were filling the night time with their sounds and a cluster of fireflies glowed softly nearby.

“Thanks,” Adam said quickly. “For the ride and for taking me- uh, taking me to get dinner.” He stuttered and almost changed what he was going to say, then stopped abruptly, certain Ronan would be able to see the glow of his red cheeks in the darkness.

“No problem,” Ronan said and Adam stared at his side profile.

He waited for a few moments, not sure what he was waiting for, but hoping he could break the silence with something. He wanted to say something about what had just happened, about what Ronan had just found out, the way he’d reacted and the way they’d held hands in silence. Then he turned away and got the door. He’d never been good at saying something.

“Wait a second, Parrish,” Ronan said before he could close the door behind him.

“Yeah?” Adam stopped.

“Do you wish he was dead?” He asked. Adam didn’t need to ask who. He was shocked that Ronan remembered what he’d told him after everything that had happened tonight. How did he have the capacity to think of someone else right now? Adam stored this information away.

He shifted uncomfortably on his feet. He knew Ronan wouldn’t accept a lie.

“Sometimes.”

“Sometimes?

“Yeah,” Adam said.

“Why, do you think you deserve it?” Ronan asked.

“What?”

“You said _sometimes_ which sounds like there are times when you don’t hate him. Sometimes you talk yourself into thinking you deserve it to make it okay,” he said simply.

Adam felt guilty and for a moment, he hated Ronan. But Ronan hadn’t said it to be spiteful, he looked over at Adam with wide eyes, or at least that’s what Adam thought he could see in the darkness. He wondered if Ronan had had the same thoughts as him as they held hands. He had to turn away.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, then added, “are you gonna be okay?”

“What happens if I say no?” Ronan asked. Adam had expected him to lie and say yes. That’s what he would have done.

He swallowed. “I wouldn’t leave you on your own.”

“Why not?”

“Are you gonna be okay?” Adam asked again, ignoring his question.

“Do you have to go straight inside?” Ronan asked back.

Adam knew he was going to be the first to answer.

He considered Ronan’s question. _Yes, probably_ , was the answer. The last time he hadn’t come home, his father had cracked two of his ribs with the steel toe caps of his work boots. But ribs fixed themselves. Sometimes people couldn’t.

“Not straight away,” he said. “Why?”

Ronan climbed out of the car and closed the door, waiting for Adam to do the same before locking it with a click and a flash of the headlights.

“What are you doing?” Adam hissed across the roof. Fear lashed out blindly in his stomach. What if Ronan wanted to go inside his home? What if Ronan thought he could face off against Robert Parrish?

He started to make his way towards the double-wide and Adam hissed his name, jogging after him. But Ronan swerved away and instead went off into the shadows beside it. Adam said his name again.

Ronan walked across the dark backyard as if he’d been here a thousand times. It was something Adam had always envied about him. The ability to look like he belonged wherever he went. He reached the sparse line of trees that made way to a field that was owned by a farmer who was known for wielding a shotgun and being particularly trigger happy. Ronan climbed up and over the fence.

“Lynch, you can’t go in there,” Adam said. Ronan continued walking and didn’t even glance back. Adam cursed and went after him.

He walked to the middle of the field, then stopped abruptly, looking around him. His eyes passed over Adam without seeing him. 

“What are you doing?” Adam asked, more than a little unnerved. He didn’t know if it was Ronan’s silence or the darkness that was getting to him. He shivered as a light breeze hissed through the long grass, though it wasn’t cold.

Then Ronan stepped closer to him and placed a hand on his arm and pushed him aside. He didn’t push him hard, but Adam still stumbled a little. Ronan picked up a stick lying on the ground and drew a circle on the ground surrounding him, then he threw the stick aside and lay down in it on his back. His feet didn’t fit inside the circle but this didn’t seem to concern him as he closed his eyes. Adam stared.

“What are you-”

“Shut up,” Ronan said, cutting him off.

“Why-”

“I said shut up.”

Adam looked back towards the trees where he could still see the outline of the trailers with their doll house windows. Something about the situation felt so surreal as he stood looking back at his parents trailer in the near distance with Ronan Lynch lying at his feet. Maybe this was a dream. He’d never dreamt like this before.

When he looked back, Ronan’s eyes were open and he was watching him. Adam noticed that the black smudge on his jaw seemed to be darker in the dim light coming from the moon. It could have been the shadows, but something told him it had definitely changed since they had been in the car. 

“What?” Ronan said at last, propping himself up on his elbows.

“You’ve got something on your face.” He motioned to his own jaw. Ronan didn’t react and continued to stare up at him.

This was awkward. This was beyond awkward. They weren’t friends. He wished Gansey was here to say something. He would know how to fill the silence, he would know what to say to Ronan about his parents. Adam looked back towards the trailer park and considered walking away.

Then Ronan sat up and pulled his legs inside the dusty circle, drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.

“Would you fucking sit down? You’re making me nervous,” he said to the ground and Adam sat just outside the circle, crossing his legs underneath him, feeling guilty that he’d thought about leaving him out here alone after everything that had happened.

_What’s wrong with me_ , he thought.

“What’s with the circle?” He said out loud.

Ronan shrugged and hugged his knees. Adam had thought he’d already seen him at his most vulnerable tonight, but he’d been wrong. This was Ronan at his most vulnerable. He was small here; he was young and his shoulders held nothing of what he usually was. There was no aggression or power, there was just a boy who knew too much, saw too much, felt too much.

Adam felt a lot older somehow, though he was only his elder by mere months, and yet he couldn’t think of a word to say.

“Do you want me to call someone for you?” He finally settled on and then wished he hadn’t. It sounded like he wanted to leave. Maybe he did.

“Who?” Ronan asked, looking over at him. “Gansey?”

He nodded.

“No, I can’t talk about it yet. I can’t explain it to him,” Ronan replied and Adam nodded again. 

“I know this is weird,” he added. “I mean, we hardly know each other, the only thing we have in common is Gansey and- but I’m-” He sighed. “Thanks for being here, I guess. I know you probably-”

“-It’s fine,” Adam interrupted. “I’m glad I could be here.” He meant it too. Maybe it was for selfish reasons, that he could do something for Ronan Lynch when no one else could, maybe he was proving a point to himself. But it didn’t matter because- He put his hand to the mark on his neck and it felt hot under his fingertips. 

For a further five minutes they sat in silence until Ronan finally got to his feet and brushed the Henrietta dirt off the back of his expensive jeans. He seemed to muster something up within himself before stepping from the circle, then they headed back to the trailers and the waiting BMW. 

Ronan got into his car and drove off into the night. Adam crept into the double-wide, holding his breath. The TV was on low, mumbling to itself in a low buzz. Robert Parrish was passed out in front of it. Adam moved to his room carefully and closed the door. 

***

When Ronan woke in his own bed, his first thought was of Adam Parrish. The way he’d smiled when they’d eaten at that diner and the way he hadn’t smiled again after that.

His jaw hurt and he rubbed at the skin roughly. It still hurt. He thought about the ragged flesh on Prokopenko’s shoulder and felt sick. He thought about the way Kavinsky had told him about his dad and he felt downright awful. 

He had 13 unread messages on his phone. He didn’t think he could face them.

There was a knock at his bedroom door.

“Ronan?” It was Gansey. “You up?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly. He didn’t want Gansey in here. He didn’t want anyone anywhere near him. He’d never been good at dealing with things and it was usually better to avoid everyone until he could string a sentence together without snapping.

He ended up going to school, though not until gone mid-morning when he managed to get out of bed. He knew he was probably being paranoid but people were staring. He stared back.

He found Adam by his locker after lunch, the graze on his cheek from the bike accident was healing well, but the bruise under his eye looked worse somehow, a sickening green-purple. The mark on his neck made Ronan’s stomach churn. He knew what it meant, and he hated it. He had no interest in being someone’s soulmate. 

There was always the chance that it was all just a coincidence, but the way Adam had taken his hand in the car the previous night made it feel real. He could still remember the feeling of his skin and he clenched his fist, trying to forget it.

“Parrish.” 

Adam visibly started, almost dropping his school bag. “I thought you weren’t in today,” he said, recovering fast, his cheeks turning rosy. Ronan tried not to stare.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” He said. Adam looked at him with raised eyebrows and an unreadable expression that made him wish he’d stayed at home.

Adam turned away and closed his locker, hoisting his bag up onto his shoulder. Ronan refused to look at his hands.

“Nice stain,” Adam said and he glanced sideways with a smirk. Ronan looked down at his arm through habit, but it was covered by his jacket. “On your jaw,” Adam added and he reached out, his finger just about brushing Ronan’s skin. It was a moment of contact, barely a whisper, but his skin tingled even when Adam had pulled his hand away. Then he flinched, stepping backwards. Adam’s eyes flickered and his smile fell.

“What is it?” He demanded.

Adam frowned slightly, then said, “You haven’t…? It says thoughtful.”

“It says-” Ronan started. “-what?” 

He left Adam there, striding down the hallway towards the bathroom. He hadn’t been able to face his reflection yet today and it was a shock when he finally caught a glimpse of it. He looked tired and sick and he was in desperate need of a shave, but underneath the layer of stubble on his jaw was the mark. He rubbed at it.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself. He thought asshole was bad, he’d never bargained for something like this. When people looked at Ronan Lynch, the word “thoughtful” didn’t usually spring to mind. This was a fucking joke. 

His father had had a mark at the corner of his jaw, right below his earlobe. It read “good” and Ronan had been proud that he had it. _Look at my dad_ , he used to think, _my dad’s good._

He straightened up, pretending he hadn’t expected Adam to come after him. The bell had already gone after all, he’d probably rushed off to class. He sighed and tried to push his thoughts away, but his father came back to him. Suppressed memories sometimes had a habit of rising to the surface, rearing their ugly heads and demanding to be looked at, to be touched, to be felt. Ronan’s head buzzed with them. 

He pulled his phone out and, ignoring the messages that were piling up, he sent a text to Declan.

_“I need to talk to you”_

He hated having to do this. He hated the wording and the way Declan would take it. He hated that he had to reach out to him after so long spent running away.

_“When and where?”_ He sent back.

_“Meet me in the parking lot after school but make sure M isnt with you”_

_“Fine.”_

Ronan went to his next class where he received an earful about the importance of punctuality and attendance. He hardly listened. 

***

The passenger seat of Declan’s car was annoyingly spacious and accommodating and Ronan flipped the cup holder in and out until Declan snapped at him to cut it out.

“Did you read a single one of my messages?” He demanded and Ronan flipped the cup holder out one more time just because.

“Probably not,” he said.

Declan shifted in his seat, refusing to rise to Ronan’s antagonistic attitude. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Dad,” he replied before he could stop himself.

“What about him?” Declan’s voice was tense and serious. Ronan hated it.

He pulled his hands over his face roughly, remembering his mark as he did so and feeling suddenly exposed and uncomfortable. He wished he could cover it up somehow. Maybe he’d have to grow a beard.

“It wasn’t a business deal gone wrong,” he said. “It was nothing like they told us.” He looked over at his brother, but his face gave nothing away. “He was murdered because he knew something.”

Declan didn’t say a word, but he stared at Ronan with the older brother face that made Ronan want to hit him. He stared back. They’d done this enough times and Ronan had yet to lose.

Declan finally turned away and breathed out heavily through his nose. “I know,” he said.

Ronan froze. “Know what?”

“I know that what he knew got him killed,” Declan said.

Ronan blinked rapidly, watching his brother’s side profile. “And what he knew… Do you know what he knew?”

Declan nodded and sighed again. “About the fucked up cells and mom. Yeah, I know.”

“And you never thought to tell me?” Ronan demanded, his voice rising.

Declan shook his head in frustration and turned to face him again, gripping the steering wheel with one hand. “I was trying to protect you,” he said. “I wanted you and Matthew to be safe from all of this.”

“Keeping the truth from people doesn’t keep them safe,” Ronan spat, “it makes them vulnerable. You made Matthew fucking vulnerable.”

“Aren’t you doing the same thing right now? Asking to meet me without him?” Declan asked, his eyes shining the way they always did when he got in a fight.

“Don’t even-” Ronan started, breaking off abruptly to massage his temples with the tips of his fingers.

“Don’t be a hypocrite,” Declan said coldly.

“I don’t know why I thought talking to you about this was a good idea,” Ronan said, then he looked up at him again. “How the fuck did you find out?”

“I overheard dad talking one night and he saw me and ended up telling me the whole thing,” Declan explained.

“He told you?” Ronan was shocked.

“Oh don’t act so butthurt, Ronan” Declan snapped. “You were still his favorite.”

Ronan glared at him. “Fuck you,” he said and he got out of the car, slamming the door behind him. 

He went straight over to his BMW and once inside, he rang Matthew and in a fit of rage, he told him everything. He hung up the phone and it buzzed almost instantly.

_“Dont be angry with dec, lets go see mom tonight”_

It was from Matthew of course, unable to leave either of his asshole brothers hurting. Sometimes Ronan wished he was more like his good-natured younger brother. Sometimes he wished Declan was more like him too.

He felt bad about having avoided Gansey all day. It wasn’t usual for them to go a day without seeing each other. He promised himelf he’d talk to him later, then he started the engine, tapping to reply to Matthew’s message with his other hand.

_“Just you and me,”_ he text back. _“I’ll pick you up at 5.”_


	6. Chapter 6

It was usually easy for Adam to get lost in work. His mind became a one-track machine that ticked over with brake pads, fuel injectors and spark plugs. But tonight he couldn’t seem to concentrate.

He tried to pass it off as too much school work, too much preparation he needed to do for his exams. But he knew it wasn’t really any of these things. It was one thing, one person.

The screech of tyres had him looking up from where he was trying to focus his mind on the engine of a 1990 Volvo that had seen better days.

Adam had never driven a car fast enough to make the tyres screech like that, he’d only ever driven customers cars around the block once or twice to ensure they were in full working order. He’d never driven for the thrill of it.

He closed the hood of the Volvo and his stomach dropped. The car that had just pulled up in the waiting bay was a white Mitsubishi Evo, it’s oversized grill looking like a mouth full of black teeth. The driver was wearing sunglasses and revved the engine once dramatically before cutting it and climbing out.

Adam held his head up a little higher and resisted the urge to wipe his greasy hands on his overalls. He refused to be intimidated.

“Parrish,” Kavinsky said as he walked over. “Making some money?”

Adam didn’t think this deemed a response. “You got a problem?” He nodded in the direction of the Mitsubishi.

Kavinsky glanced back at it and shook his head. “Not really, I came to see you actually. But I guess you could check my tyre pressure. I’d feel bad if I didn’t give you a few dollars.”

Adam glared at him and tried to focus on what Boyd said about the customer always being right. He walked over to the Mitsubishi.

“Keys, please,” he said and turned back to Kavinsky, holding his hand out. He obliged with a smirk.

The interior of the Mitsubishi was even better than Adam had imagined. Everything looked sharp and black and the heat of the evening made the small space feel hot and close. He started the engine and the roar it made as it came to life was in his chest. He cracked the window and didn’t look over at Kavinsky as he quickly manoeuvred the car over to the air pump.

As he got out again, Kavinsky said: “how is she?”

“It’s a nice car,” Adam said bluntly and began unscrewing the caps on the tyres.

“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or not,” Kavinsky said, leaning against the side of the car to watch as Adam attached the pump to the first tyre. “I bet any car’s a nice car to you after riding around on that piece-of-shit bike.”

Adam moved to the next tyre, ignoring his comment.

“How’s your face by the way?” Kavinsky asked, moving to stand beside the metal box of the air pump. Adam tensed where he crouched around the other side of the Mitsubishi. He took a few deep breaths.

“It’s healing,” he said and tried to focus on the hiss of air filling the tyres. He had a good mind to slash them.

When he was done, he walked back round to Kavinsky who was holding $20. Adam scowled at him. It cost cents to check your own tyre pressure at the gas station.

“It doesn’t cost that much,” he said and stopped himself before he added, _and you know it._

“It’s called a tip,” Kavinsky said, still holding the note out to him.

“I don’t want your dirty money,” Adam snarled.

Kavinsky laughed, one sharp note with his head thrown back. “Money is money, man. You’re in no position to be picking and choosing.” He glanced over towards the small office in the back. “Is your boss in?”

“Why?” Adam demanded, knowing full well he was being threatened.

“Take the money, trailer trash,” Kavinsky said in a hiss as he stepped into Adam’s personal space. Adam took a step back, then automatically reached out and took the $20. He didn’t want to get in a fight.

“Good boy,” Kavinsky said with a smirk, his tone sickeningly condescending. Adam quickly walked over to the makeshift cash register which was really just a locked metal box. He hesitated before putting the $20 in it. How was he going to explain the extra money to Boyd?

“The tip’s for you, Parrish,” Kavinsky said and Adam quickly tucked it into the box. He was not accepting a tip from Kavinsky. He wrote him a receipt for what would roughly reach a bill of $20 and gave it to him. Kavinsky scanned it quickly and smiled before shoving it into his back pocket.

“What do you want?” Adam asked, folding his arms over his chest. He wanted this over with.

“We need to talk about Lynch,” Kavinsky said.

“What about him?”

“He hasn’t been texting me back,” Kavinsky said, ever shameless.

“Why is that my problem?” Adam asked.

“Becasue he’s been with you,” he replied.

“I think he’s having a hard time after what you told him,” Adam said, 

“Right,” Kavinsky said, nodding and he looked at the ground. “So what’s your deal with him?” He looked up again. He was somewhere between amusement and irritation.

“We met through Gansey,” Adam said.

Kavinsky raised his eyebrows. “Damn,” he said, “that works on so many levels.”

“Look, if you wanna talk about Lynch, you should be talking to Gansey, not me,” Adam snapped. “I hardly even know him.”

“So you’re telling me that you didn’t go down on him in the bathroom at Big Joe’s? Because he looked pretty fucking pleased with himself when you both came out and if I know Lynch-”

“It’s not like that,” Adam said, cutting him off.

“Who’s he on then? Dick? Or… What’s his name? Czerny? The pale kid. It is Czerny, isn’t it?”

“I haven’t got time for this,” Adam said and he turned away. He grabbed a bottle of brake fluid and went back outside to the Volvo he’d been working on previously.

“Hey, Parrish, wait,” Kavinsky said as he came up behind him again. “I’m just- I need to see him. I need to talk to him.”

“It’s not my problem,” Adam said, trying to ignore the prickle up the back of his neck that indicated just how close Kavinsky was standing.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he said and Adam turned around to face him.

“I’ve already said how I feel about your money, Kavinsky.” He spat his name at his feet.

“God,” Kavinsky said, “I’ve never known someone as piss poor as you are to be so fucking proud. But I never said anything about money.” The smirk met his eyes this time, wild and awful.

“I don’t know what you’re implying, but I don’t want anything from you,” Adam said and the smile suddenly fell from Kavinsky’s face.

“What time do you get off?” He asked.

Adam turned back to the Volvo’s engine and ignored him. This was dangerous water and he didn’t feel like swimming in it. _Go away,_ he thought, _please go._

“I don’t think you understand how important it is that I talk to him,” Kavinsky said finally, realizing Adam wasn’t going to reply. His voice was different. Lower, more serious. Adam turned to stare.

“What do you need to tell him?” He asked suddenly curious and Kavinsky shook his head.

“Call him,” he said.

“I don’t have his number,” Adam said quickly, feeling his cheeks flush.

“I can give you it,” Kavinsky replied and pulled his phone out.

“No,” Adam said quickly. “I, uh, don’t have a phone.”

Kavinsky’s eyes widened slightly, then crinkled around the edges with a smirk. “That’s cute, man,” he said.

“Listen,” Adam said. “If there’s something up with your car, I’ll have a look at it, but if you’re just here to ask about Lynch, then you need to leave.”

Kavinsky studied him for a long moment and it took physical effort to hold his gaze, then he shrugged.

“Fine,” he said. “When I talk to Lynch, the first thing I’m gonna tell him is how touchy his girlfriend is.”

Adam didn’t give him a reaction and continued to stare back. He reached out and Adam flinched when he patted his cheek. He seemed to enjoy that.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said in a tone that implied the exact opposite, and then he left.

It took until his car had disappeared down the street before Adam could tear his eyes away. He took a few long breaths, trying to concentrate on just that, but his mind felt muddy.

***

Driving to the hospital without Declan made everything a whole lot easier. Matthew had turned the radio up loud and everything had felt fractionally better than it truly was. When they got to the hospital though, Ronan's mood instantly plummeted.

“Do you think she knows?” Matthew asked in a hushed voice as they walked down the linoleum hospital corridor. He’d taken the whole thing relatively well, but Ronan was worried he was in shock and processing it long-term would fuck him up. He always worried that he was fucking Matthew up in some way or another.

He shrugged and felt Matthew’s eyes on him. He felt sick and each step brought him closer to something he wanted to run from. 

Aurora Lynch was sitting in a chair by the window and she turned as the nurse led her sons into the room. She looked lovely. Her face was open and the curls of her hair clung to her cheeks and her neck. She looked exactly how Ronan remembered her.

“How’re ya doin’, Aurora?” the Nurse said in a distinct Southern accent. “You up for some visitors? Matthew and Ronan are here to see you.”

Aurora smiled warmly at the nurse before turning it to her sons, but it wasn’t quite right.

“Hello,” she said pleasantly as though she was meeting a pair of strangers for the first time.

“Hi mom,” Matthew said, though he had tensed at Ronan’s side. “How are you feeling today?”

Her smile became more open as she settled her attention on Matthew and motioned towards the chair opposite her for him to sit. He went to the chair happily, beaming at her. It was so natural, so familiar that Ronan was entranced watching them even as they continued to make polite small talk.

“You gonna be alright for a minute?” the nurse asked, touching Ronan’s shoulder on her way out. Ronan nodded and resisted the urge to shake her off.

“Declan? No, he’s not here. But Ronan is,” Matthew said and he turned to look over at him. Aurora followed his gaze, then immediately turned away to face the window.

“Mom?” Matthew asked, his brow furrowing.

“I remember him,” Ronan heard her whisper. “This is a dream, isn’t it? I’m about to wake up from a dream.”

“No, it’s real. You’re awake and we’re really here,” Matthew said a little bewildered, trying to reassure her, his voice full of pity that Ronan expected was directed at him. “You remember Ronan?”

Aurora shook her head. “Ronan? I remember Ronan. But that’s-” she broke off.

“That’s him, mom,” Matthew said softly. “Look.” He glanced up and gave Ronan a weak smile but Aurora continued to stare out the window.

“Why did you bring him here, angel?” she asked and Ronan’s legs ached to run. He registered that this hurt from a distance, already dissociating from the situation.

“Ask her,” he snapped at Matthew and Matthew stared at him before turning back to their mom.

“Mom, you know before you fell asleep?” He started.

“I thought we died,” Aurora cut in dreamily and she turned her head sideways so that Ronan could see her side profile. “Niall?” she called. It was unnerving, hearing her call him as though he was standing over in the corner. He hated this. He wished he’d never come. 

Matthew looked back over at Ronan with wide eyes. He caught on before Ronan had even considered it. “That’s Ronan,” he said. “That’s your son, Ronan. That’s not dad.”

“It’s okay, baby,” she said to him. “You don’t need to worry about grown-up things.”

Ronan rang for the nurse in a moment of blind panic that consumed him from head to toe.

“Everything okay in here?” the nurse asked as she came back in, all forced smiles as though she knew it would be the exact opposite.

“Come on, Matthew,” Ronan said, ignoring her question but Matthew shook his head.

“Mom, look at me,” he said and he knelt in front of Aurora’s chair. His urgency made Ronan nervous. “Did you know?” 

She was silent and Ronan could see the nurse shifting from one foot to the other nervously beside him. He suddenly wished he hadn’t called for her, this moment felt too intimate for an audience.

“It was like Hiroshima,” Aurora said finally.

“What do you mean?” Matthew asked, the tone of his voice closer to a demand. Ronan had never heard him sound like that before. It scared him. 

Aurora suddenly twisted in her chair, her fingers digging into the worn leather as she pinned Ronan with a stare. “That’s what you said. It’ll be like Hiroshima. They’ll never see it coming until it’s inside them.”

The nurse seemed to remember her job and sprung into action with soothing words, glancing back at Ronan over her shoulder to say; “she gets like this when she’s tired, sweetie. Talking nonsense. Don’t worry about it. Go and get yourself a coffee from the cafeteria. Just give her a couple of minutes.” She took hold of Aurora’s shoulders and led her over to the bed.

“She was talking,” Matthew said, straightening up. He looked outraged and Ronan couldn’t blame him, though he’d been secretly relieved that the nurse had intervened.

“Just give her a couple of minutes,” she said again without looking at him.

“Come on,” Ronan said sharply and hoped Matthew would follow him as he walked out. 

***

The ride back to Henrietta was awkward and silent. Ronan had insisted that they leave and at first Matthew had refused which had led to the kind of argument that was more at home with Declan than Matthew. Ronan wasn’t used to fighting with his younger brother.

Once they reached the Aglionby campus, Ronan turned to Matthew and apologized and Matthew insisted that Ronan had nothing to be sorry for and that he was the one who should be sorry. 

When Matthew got out of the car, it was almost 8pm. Ronan didn’t feel like going back to Monmouth. He didn’t feel like facing Gansey. It seemed that that was always the case recently and he felt bad about it. 

But maybe not bad enough as he drove to the garage where Adam worked. He pushed away the shame he felt at knowing when Adam had shifts. It was simply something he’d picked up from things Gansey had said and from Adam himself.

Adam was inside and the smell of oil and something that smelt suspiciously like a burnt out clutch hit Ronan’s nose as he entered. He’d been here before, but never to see Adam like this. He remembered coming with his dad a number of times but he pushed this thought away.

Adam looked shocked to see him. “Hi, got a problem with your car?”

“No,” Ronan replied, taking in his messy, slightly greasy hair and his dirty overalls.

“Did Kavinsky find you?” Adam asked. 

“No, why?” It felt good to be conversing with someone so casually.

“He came by earlier, asking about you,” Adam said.

“Asking you about me?”

“Yeah.”

Ronan waited for him to say more but he didn’t, he just watched him with an unreadable expression and Ronan was about to speak, he was about to turn away, but then Adam stepped closer. He leaned forwards and Ronan found himself short of breath as he spoke.

“If you don’t want to, then don’t. If you don’t mean it-” He locked his arms by his sides, determined not to reach out for Adam like he wanted to do so badly. The need was almost overwhelming as he let himself feel it fully for the first time. He felt light-headed as one of Adam’s hands took hold of his waist while the other gently brushed his face and he leaned in and kissed him.

It started off soft, lips against lips, then Adam started asking for more and Ronan responded, letting him lick into his mouth. The raw need inside him was almost painful and he finally found himself gripping at the front of Adam’s filthy overalls as he made a soft, involuntary noise in the back of his throat. Adam kissed him harder still and any embarrassment he should have felt disappeared.

Then Adam pulled away.. “I want to,” he said, but he removed his hands from Ronan’s body and took a step backwards. Ronan was too stunned to speak. His head spun, the room spun, Adam spun away before his eyes. 

He blinked and Adam stopped spinning. 

He blinked and he was back in his car, driving away.


	7. Chapter 7

The second Adam stepped inside the front door, he knew something was wrong. There was at least half a dozen empty beer cans by the sink, but that wasn’t what alerted him. The sight of his father sitting at the kitchen table wearing an old pair of reading glasses and clutching a piece of paper was what did it. He looked up when Adam entered, his eyes looking bizarrely magnified, then he whipped the glasses off and threw them down beside the piece of paper. Adam noticed the envelope that had been torn open beside it and his heart thudded in his chest.

“Here he is,” Robert Parrish said sarcastically, “the little fucking liar.”

Adam clenched his fists to his sides, ready to run or shut out what was about to happen to him.

“You’re not supposed to open my mail,” he said, hating the way his voice sounded.

“So long as you’re living under my roof, it’s my mail,” his dad shot back and he got to his feet and snatched up the letter. “We live in this shithole and you’re sitting on a fuckin' goldmine,” he said.

“I’m not-”

“Don’t interrupt me when I’m speaking to you, you little bastard,” his dad hissed.

Adam wished he could look at the letter so he knew what he was up against. He guessed it was a bank statement or a letter from Aglionby about his scholarship, though he guessed it didn’t matter much, he was still going to get punished for it.

“Do you know what we could do with this kind of money, Adam?” His father demanded. “You don’t get that though, do you? You give it all to that shitty school while you pretend you’re one of them and go around with that cunt who drives that orange shit-show of a car.”

Adam decided to try again. He couldn’t stand his dad talking about Gansey like that.

“It’s not my money,” he said quickly. “It’s for my studies, I have no say over that, and the other money is what I earn from working.”

As his father strode closer, Adam’s first thought was to move out of the way, but for a large man, Robert Parrish was fast and he slapped Adam across the face before he’d even processed what to do to prevent it. He absorbed some of the impact as he swung his head to the side and he refused to bring a hand to his burning cheek. He looked at his father again and took a single step backwards.

“Wipe that look off your face,” his father snarled and he picked the keys to his truck off the kitchen counter and demanded Adam follow him outside. Adam did as he was told, staring at the ground, too embarrassed by himself to look up.

He got in the passenger side and tried to take deep breaths in and out as quietly as possible. He felt like he was going to be sick. As they took off down the road, he cracked the window open with the crank and let the filthy, stuffy air wash over him.

He found himself thinking about Ronan. They hadn’t seen or spoken to one another since what had happened at the garage and three days had passed now. He thought that maybe Ronan regretted it, he had certainly gotten out of there fast enough, and he thought that he didn’t really blame him. He glanced down at his fingers where the word “loser” still sat proudly, though in this light he could’ve sworn it was dimmer than it had been.

He wondered what Ronan’s father had been like when he was alive.

His stomach clenched as they pulled into the parking lot beside the bank and he turned to his father with pleading eyes.

“I can’t get you any money,” he said and his father glared at him before slamming out of the truck and circling around to the passenger door. He opened it and took hold of Adam’s wrist, pulling him down from the seat. Adam tried not to stumble. He tried not to draw attention to himself as his father pushed him towards the front doors of the bank, following close behind.

“Get me the fucking money, Adam,” his dad practically hissed in his ear once they were inside the bank. A woman filling in some paperwork at a table looked up, then looked down again. “Now,” he added. The smell of notes and coins and cheap machine coffee filled Adam’s nose and made him feel sick.

“I can’t,” he tried again and he turned for the door but his father stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“If you walk out of here right now, it’s gonna be really fucking bad for you, kid,” he snarled and Adam noticed a man by the door looking their way this time. He averted his eyes, not wanting to draw attention to the situation.

“I haven’t got my card,” Adam tried.

“Bullshit,” his dad spat back.

“I’m saving it,“ he said desperately.

“I work hard to keep a roof over your head, you ungrateful son of a bitch, and you can't even lend me some money?” People were definitely staring now. A woman stepped forward.

“Excuse me,” she said. “Is there a problem here?” She wore a brown blazer with a matching brown skirt and Adam guessed she must work in the bank.

Robert Parrish turned his furious gaze on her and Adam looked at the ground, his cheeks flushing.

“No, there isn’t a problem,” Adam’s father said, looking her up and down in a nasty kind of way, as though he was sizing her up and finding her unworthy. Adam hated him.

“Well, I’m afraid if you continue this disruptive behaviour, then I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” she said and Adam was impressed by the way she kept her back straight and her eyes locked on him.

“Disruptive behaviour?” Adam’s father demanded. “I’m talking to my son and it’s none of your fucking business you nosey bitch.”

Adam knew he’d blown it. The woman turned and walked away, returning moments later with a man who asked Adam and his father to leave, and when they didn’t, he took hold of Robert Parrish’s arm and started to lead him towards the exit. Robert shook the man off him and left the bank with nothing but a murderous look on his face and Adam followed quickly. He tried to ignore the gutting feeling in his stomach at the way not a single person who had seen the way his dad was talking to him had tried to intervene. It was about getting the trailer trash out of the bank, not getting the boy away from his abusive father.

Adam didn’t want to get into the truck. He didn’t want to go home. But he was already in the passenger seat and his father hadn’t uttered a word.

They got back to the double-wide too quickly, the world seemingly against Adam as every set of traffic lights they passed was on green.

Adam tried to concentrate on his breathing as he began to try and separate his mind from his body. It was hard though when his dad practically dragged him from the truck and pushed him against it.

“You’re never gonna humiliate me like that again,” he said. “Get inside.”

Adam’s legs shook as he made his way up the porch steps and went into the trailer, his father on his heels. He felt weak. He felt pathetic.

He used to try and apologize and explain himself, but it seemed futile now. He turned to face his father and closed his eyes before the first punch hit his jaw.

***

“Ronan,” Gansey said impatiently, and Ronan turned, realizing suddenly that he’d been speaking to him. The Camaro growled it’s protest as Gansey shifted down to turn onto the Aglionby parking lot.

“I already told you I’m fine,” Ronan said. He felt like he’d said it a thousand times now and Gansey never seemed to get it. It was Monday morning and Ronan felt sufficiently shitty after a weekend filled with sleeplessness and copious amounts of alcohol. The hangover had finally hit and it was absolutely wasting him and he could hardly think, let alone listen to Gansey whine at him.

“I’m worried about you,” Gansey said.

Ronan groaned. “You’re always worried about me, what’s the fucking difference?”

“Something happened,” Gansey said. “Something happened and you won’t tell me what it is and that worries me. What happened with your mom? Where did you go with Kavinsky last week? Why are you drinking like-” he broke off.

“Like what?”

Gansey parked the Camaro and turned the engine off. “You know you can trust me, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Ronan said and he climbed out of the car. He waited while Gansey grabbed his bag from the backseat, then they began to walk towards the main building together. Gansey pushed his hair back irritably. It was raining lightly, though the air was still close and humid.

There was a long silence before Gansey spoke again. “I spoke to Declan.”

Ronan halted. “You did what?”

“I’m sorry, but I had to. He’s as worried about you as I am and I needed to know-”

“Don’t bring him into this,” Ronan snapped. “I mean- fuck, man… Declan? Really?”

“You can’t keep everything to yourself,” Gansey said.

“I’m not,” he spat, “Adam’s been with me.”

“Adam?” Gansey looked stunned.

“Whatever, man,” Ronan said. He didn’t feel like talking about Adam right now. Adam who kissed him, then avoided him. Adam who was quite possibly his soulmate and very possibly didn’t want to be. He jogged ahead of Gansey to get out of the rain.

***

“Have you seen Adam today?” Gansey asked the moment Ronan climbed into the Camaro at the end of the day. He hadn’t. It was fast becoming the norm. He shook his head.

“No ones seen him at all,” Gansey continued. “It’s not like him. I’ve seen him run to the bathroom to throw up when he was sick, but he refused to go home.”

Ronan’s stomach dropped. Why hadn’t Adam made it into school today?

“We should drive over to his place and check he’s okay,” he said quickly and Gansey nodded easily, his brow furrowed with concern. Ronan was glad that Gansey was fond of Adam.

The rain was coming down again, heavier this time and the Camaro’s windscreen wipers were whizzing from side to side as they hurtled through the onslaught. Water ran in streams either side of Adam’s road, the dust churned up into mud. Ronan’s heart was beating along with the pounding rain on the roof.

Gansey parked up and they both stared at the trailer that belonged to Adam’s parents through the lashing rain.

“What are you expecting?” Gansey asked warily.

“I don’t know,” Ronan replied. He didn’t want to say what he really thought out loud.

They walked to the front door, heads down, shoulders hunched. Gansey knocked and Ronan tried to mentally prepare himself for whatever was to come.

A woman opened the door. She had shoulder length, limp looking brown hair and she wore an oversized cardigan that she pulled self-consciously around herself and folded her arms. It was Adam’s mother. It had to be.

“Good evening,” Gansey said politely. “Is Adam in?”

Mrs Parrish’s eyes were wide like a deer caught in the headlights and she closed the door a fraction as she spoke. “Who are you?”

“Oh, we’re friends of Adam's. I’m Richard- Richard Gansey and this is Ronan Lynch,” Gansey said, he wore an easy, charming smile that Ronan could not - or would not - replicate.

“He’s not very well,” Mrs Parrish said and she gave a weak, fake smile. “I’ll tell him you stopped by.” She started to close the door.

Ronan put his hand out and stopped it before it could hit the latch.

“I want to see him,” he said firmly and Mrs Parrish stared at him, completely taken aback. He didn’t want to scare her, but he wasn’t leaving without knowing Adam was alright.

“I said he’s not very well. Now get your hand off my door,” Mrs Parrish said.

“Come on,” Gansey said to Ronan and he tried to pull him away by his arm. “Sorry,” he added to Mrs Parrish.

Ronan shook Gansey off. “No, listen, I need to see him.”

Gansey looked back at him and something passed between them. _Trust me_ , Ronan urged.

“If you don’t get off my porch, I’m callin’ the cops,” Mrs Parrish said and her voice shook.

“There’s no need for that,” Gansey said, attempting to diffuse the situation as he turned back to her. “Really. Let us just see Adam, then we’ll go.”

“What part of not very well don’t you get? He’s sick. He’s not seein’ anyone today,” Mrs Parrish continued but Ronan had had enough and he pushed the door aside and swept past her into the house.

“Adam?” He called.

“That’s it,” Mrs Parrish said and she grabbed the handset of a landline phone that sat on the counter. “I’m calling the cops right now.”

“Mrs Parrish,” Gansey appealed, “please, we just want to see Adam. We don’t want any trouble.”

“Don’t come near me,” she said, hysteria rising in her voice.

“Adam?” Ronan said again, then he turned back to face Adam’s mom. “You won’t call the cops. If you call them, you’ll have to explain what that fucker has done to your son.”

Tears spilled over Mrs Parrish’s eyes as she furiously jabbed numbers into the phone, but she didn’t press to dial.

“Ronan…” Gansey said, staring at him, demanding an explanation, though his expression indicated he’d already guessed.

A door clicked down the tiny corridor at the far end of the open plan living space and suddenly there was Adam.

“Go back to bed, Adam,” Mrs Parrish called, but it sounded choked as she fought back her tears.

As Adam stepped into the light, Ronan’s insides froze over. He looked like he’d been beaten to an inch of his life. Bruises, cuts and lacerations covered his face, neck and arms and that was only what was visible. God only knew what the rest of his body looked like.

"Oh my God,” Gansey breathed.

“What are you doing here?” Adam asked and his voice sounded hoarse. The bruise across his throat explained that. He looked towards his mother. “Mom?”

She dropped the phone back onto the counter and covered her face as her shoulders shook. Adam watched her.

“Where is he?” Ronan ground out.

Adam dragged his eyes from his mother and looked at him. “He’s not here.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Ronan said, balling his hands into fists to keep them from trembling.

“No,“ Gansey said firmly, taking control of the situation. “We need to go, you as well Adam. Pack your things.”

Adam took a step back, shaking his head. “I can’t. Not like this.”

“Why the fuck not?” Ronan demanded.

“I’m not running away,” Adam said quietly and he glanced at his mother again who was now looking back at him.

“Get them to leave before he comes back,” she said.

“No, fuck that,” Ronan snarled, “let him come back. Just fucking let him.”

“Why did you come here?” Adam asked, he sounded irritated.

“We came to make sure he hadn’t killed you,” Ronan said, getting closer to him. Adam took another step back.

“Well, he didn’t, so,” he motioned towards the door. “Leave.”

“Adam,” Gansey said. He sounded hurt. “Please come with us.”

“I’m sorry, but no,” Adam said and he turned away and headed back towards his room.

“Parrish, wait,” Ronan said, grabbing his arm before he could think better of it. Adam tugged his arm away and spun around.

“Don’t touch me,” he snapped. “Just- please, go.”

“I can’t.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Adam said and he went into his room and closed the door. Ronan turned back to face Gansey and Mrs Parrish.

“How do you do it?” Ronan demanded, striding over to Adam’s mother. “How do you just sit there while he hurts him?”

“You need to get out of my house,” Mrs Parrish said, her eyes still watery.

“Come on, Ronan,” Gansey said, “let’s go.”

“I can’t leave him,” Ronan said, his voice softening. “Just let me go and talk to him. Please, just give me a minute.”

The bedroom was dark, the blinds drawn down over the window, but Ronan could make out Adam’s silhouette curled up on the bed. He rolled over to see who had entered and sat up when he saw Ronan stood there.

“I asked you to go,” Adam said.

“And you think I’d leave you like this?” He shut the door behind him and sat down at the end of the bed. “You didn’t leave me when I needed someone, so I’m not about to leave you.”

“Who says I need someone?” Adam said.

“Why are you pushing me away?” Ronan whispered. He didn’t mean to whisper it, but it came out that way anyway. “I can’t stand this.”

“Why haven’t you spoken to me since what happened at the garage last week?” Adam said suddenly.

Ronan was stunned. “What? I thought you were avoiding me.”

Adam shook his head and looked down at his lap. “Please just- please go home now. I’m scared you’ll just make it worse if he gets back and you’re still here.”

"How do you expect me to leave now?” Ronan asked.

Adam shrugged and his fingers crept across the sheet and he took Ronan’s hand. “Please go home.”

“I-” Ronan started but he broke off when Adam lifted his hand to his mouth and kissed his knuckles.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Ronan replied and he squeezed Adam’s hand as he lowered it from his lips.

"Okay," Adam said and he pulled his hand away again.

“Please leave with us,” Ronan tried for one last time.

“It’ll only make things worse,” Adam replied. “Just go, I’m begging you.”

Ronan hated himself for walking away. He knew that no matter what happened in his life and with Adam, he would never forgive himself for leaving him in that house with that man. Gansey didn’t comment when he wiped at his eyes in the passenger seat and he was grateful for it.

“We have to get him out of there,” Gansey said when they got back to Monmouth Manufacturing.

“I know,” Ronan replied, “but I think he wants to get himself out.”

Gansey stared at him and he knew he didn’t get it. He felt a flash of anger towards him. What did Richard Campbell Gansey III know about getting out of a bad situation?

They went to bed without much more conversation but Ronan found himself visiting the kitchen to find something to take the edge off. He thought about Adam curled up on his single bed and maybe it was the alcohol, but he couldn’t help but imagine being curled around him, protecting him and watching over him while he slept.


	8. Chapter 8

After Ronan and Gansey left, Adam felt carved in two. The monsters in his mind were sometimes worse than his father’s fists and now they pressed and nudged and poked at his thoughts and he wondered if he was losing his mind. 

He buried himself under the sheets and curled up until he was as small as he could possibly be. He was suffocating. It was too hot in his room, the air was close and his warm breath felt wet against his arm, but he couldn’t release himself yet.

He tried to turn himself inside out when he heard the sounds of his dad getting home. _Don’t come in here,_ he begged silently. He hoped his mom wouldn’t mention what had happened earlier. She was smarter than that surely.

He could hear the mumble of conversation and then the night fell to silence again. He breathed a sigh of relief and loosened the grip ever so slightly from where his hands cradled the back of his head. He tried not to think about his friends. 

***

Adam couldn’t decide how he felt about Monmouth Manufacturing. On one hand, it felt good. He’d only been a handful of times, but each time it had felt like a nice place to be. Gansey always made him feel welcome and there was always noise somewhere, whether from the radio on Gansey’s desk, or the muffled sound of music coming from behind Ronan’s closed door. But at the same time, Adam didn’t know if he could stand it. It was a colossal waste of money, the old factory building probably costing more on repairs from it’s crumbling walls and faulty pipe work then it was worth, not to mention the sum of money Gansey probably laid down to heat the entirety of the massive factory room on the first floor that was both the living area, his bedroom and his study.

But it wasn’t really Monmouth that was bothering Adam as he climbed the rusty, creaking staircase to the first floor. He was scared of what Gansey was going to say to him. They hadn’t spoken since he and Ronan had shown up at Adam’s home three days previously. And Adam couldn’t decide if he wanted Ronan there, or if he really, really didn’t.

He was momentarily shocked when it was Noah who answered the door and, to Noah’s credit, his smile only faltered slightly when he took in Adam’s state. It returned seconds later, friendly and accepting and Adam didn’t have much difficulty returning it.

“Is Gansey in?” Adam asked and as Noah nodded and stepped aside to let him in, apprehension settled in his stomach.

Gansey looked concerned from the moment he set eyes on Adam. He looked him up and down briefly as though he was checking for fresh damage. Adam noticed that he didn’t look well either. He looked tired and pale and Adam wondered, not for the first time, about Gansey’s life behind closed doors.

“How are you doing?” He asked.

“I’m okay,” Adam said and he watched as Noah crossed the room and turned down the volume on the TV.

“Ronan’s not here,” Gansey said. The whole interaction was awkward, as though after what happened at the trailer, there was a wall between them. Adam had never known Gansey to be someone who was stuck for words, who couldn’t approach a situation verbally and take it apart and discuss it through eloquent speech. God, this felt shitty.

He tried to smile as he said, “that’s alright. I came to see you.”

Gansey seemed to relax slightly, as though he realized Adam still had the ability to smile and he was relieved by it. He wondered if Gansey thought this was the first time his father had hurt him. Maybe he thought Adam was irreversibly altered by this single event. He wasn’t. It had happened enough times that he was already changed, he was already poisoned, and he couldn’t be pushed any further.

They sat down and Adam tried to focus on the notes that Gansey was talking through. He’d missed three whole days of school and that was more time than he could afford. Noah chipped in every now and then and the atmosphere slowly ebbed away until the awkwardness had disappeared completely.

Adam wanted to ask about Ronan. He’d spent a day regretting their last interaction and two days after that wishing he could do exactly what he had done over and over again. All he could think about was the way Ronan's hands were soft when the rest of him looked so coarse, the way his gaze had been steady yet cracked and so, so heartrendingly open that Adam had had to do something, _anything._ He couldn’t get it out of his mind

“So, where’s Ronan?” He asked, deciding to sidestep how he was, but hoping Gansey’s reply would lead there nonetheless.

Gansey shrugged. “He’s out. He doesn’t tell me where he’s going and I’ve just about given up asking to be honest.”

“Is everything alright?” Adam asked. He was shocked by this response, although Gansey didn’t sound angry, just sort of... defeated.

Gansey looked up and gave him a smile that made his eyes crinkle at the edges. “Yeah, but you know what he’s like.”

“I don’t think he’s coping well at the moment,” Noah said from where he was settled in the corner of the couch. “With his mom and everything,” he clarified, seemingly as an afterthought.

“What has he said to you about her?” Adam asked, scribbling idly at his physics notes with a pencil. 

Noah snorted and Gansey shot him a knowing look before answering. “Nothing really. We know she’s awake, but that’s only ‘cause Declan told him when we were all here.”

“For someone who doesn’t tell lies,” Noah said, “he avoids telling the truth a whole lot.”

When Adam looked up to nod in acknowledgement, he noticed that Gansey was fixing him with a stare. “Has he talked to you about it?” He asked.

“Not really,” Adam admitted, it was the truth after all, “I’ve just been there when things have happened, same as you.”

“What kinds of things?”

Adam looked between them nervously, pressure weighing down between his shoulder blades. He scribbled some more on his notes as he replied, “I don’t think it’s my place to say.” He waited for Gansey to demand he tell him, he waited for him to get annoyed and to shout at him, but he didn’t.

“That’s okay, Adam,” he said easily, “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.” He didn’t tag a smile on the end and Adam was grateful for that. A smile would have made it fake. 

“So, how’s Blue?” Adam asked, changing the subject swiftly.

Gansey gave a breathy laugh of surprise and his cheeks flushed. Adam didn’t realize it would have that instant of a reaction.

“She’s just fine,” Gansey said. “You’re not, um, mad about that, are you?” He added sheepishly.

“Mad?” Adam was confused. “Why would I be mad?”

“I thought you liked her,” Gansey explained, “that’s why I talked to her in the first place.”

Adam found his cheeks growing warmer now. “I’m not mad at all,” he said. To be honest, he hadn’t thought about Blue much with everything else going on. He thought of her now. She had been beautiful, painfully beautiful actually. He looked at Gansey. They suited each other.

Then he thought about Ronan and the way looking at him made him feel. The same. Better, actually. He felt so many things when he looked at him. Excitment, fear, hope, apprehension, surprise. Ronan was handsome, anyone could see that, but his face wasn’t what drew Adam closer. It was the way he spoke and the way he thought, the way his mind moved his hands and controlled his actions. Adam looked down at his notes again, scared that it would be written across his face.

It was getting late and he had to face going home sooner or later so he quickly gathered up his things and got to his feet.

“Do you wanna stay over?” Gansey asked, standing up as well. He was pleading with his eyes. It was awful.

“I should get home,” Adam replied, putting his books in his worn out old backpack. Gansey followed him to the door.

“Was everything- after we left, was it okay?” He asked.

“It was fine. I just went to bed,” he reassured him, “and nothing else has happened since, so it’s fine.” He hoped it would be enough to pacify him.

Gansey didn’t look impressed, but thankfully he let it slide. “Will you be at school tomorrow?” He asked. Adam told him that he would be and left. 

He was glad for the long bike ride home as the last rays of sun disappeared below the horizon, like fingers trying to grip onto a cliff edge, failing eventually and falling away into nothing.

***

Ronan had expected haunting flashbacks and nausea when he thought about going back to the Barns. He expected it to feel lonely and empty and hollow. But it looked exactly how he remembered it, maybe a little overgrown, but altogether the same. And it felt the same too, that’s what hit him the hardest. It still felt like home. It felt right as he drove up the driveway and parked in front of the big farmhouse. The BMW grumbled softly beneath him as he let the engine idle. It belonged here too. 

He wasn’t supposed to be here, but he had a track record of breaking the rules and he wasn’t about to start changing that now. He told himself that he needed to be here as he got out of the car and headed up onto the front porch. He knew that Adam was going over to Monmouth tonight, and he hated himself for getting out of there before he arrived. He was a coward. The wood underneath his feet creaked and groaned as he walked up the steps, just like it always had and he remembered sitting at the bottom of the stairs in the hallway, waiting for his dad to come home, hearing the familiar creak before the door swung open and he was there. His stomach churned uncomfortably at the memory and he thought of Adam’s father. He was certain that a younger version of Adam never waited up for him to get home.

He reached for the key in his back pocket, but when he attempted to unlock the door, he found that it was already open. Someone was here. 

The nighttime sounds of crickets and animals in the tall grasses, bats flapping overhead, tree branches scratching and scraping against the old clapboard in a faint breeze, suddenly became eerie and had his skin prickling as though he were being watched. Maybe he was. He pushed the door open and cringed as it squawked on it’s hinges. He should have known it was going to do that.

Inside everything was dark and quiet, draped in a blanket of silvery dust that looked like velvet. The stairs in front of him led up into a thicker darkness and fear made his throat feel tight. He swallowed hard and kept one hand on the door so that it wouldn’t make more noise than it already had.

He tried to shake the fear off. He tried to think rationally. The only other person who had a key to the house was Declan. In Niall Lynch’s will he had specifically stated that the Barns would go to Ronan when he died and since Ronan’s mother wasn’t mentioned on any of the mortgage documents concerning the Barns, it now legally belonged to Ronan. But he hadn’t been old enough to collect the keys when his father died and his mother was in a coma, so Declan had taken them in his place. They’d fought about it and Ronan’s shoulder had never been the same since. Then he’d got a second key cut and he’d made sure that Declan never found out about it.

He shut the door carefully and turned towards the living room. “Declan?” He called and his voice carried through the darkness. There was no answer. He peered into the large room, but with all of the curtains closed, he could only make out the outlines of the furniture that stood before him. The far end of the room was just a vast, dark emptiness. Fear prickled up his spine and he called his brother’s name again.

He retreated back into the hallway and stared up the stairs and as if aware that he was watching, there came a noise from the landing above. A footstep, or something getting knocked over by a clumsy hand. Or maybe just the house settling, he told himself with little reassurance. That’s what his mother used to tell him when he got scared by noises in the night. _“It’s just the house settling around us, baby,”_ she’d say and he’d drink some warm milk and go back to sleep. 

He felt short of breath as terror slipped a cold hand up his back and he pulled his phone from his pocket. He kept his eyes locked on the glowing screen, the darkness deepening all around him. He swiped to call Declan and pressed the phone to his ear, the sudden lack of the phones light making him want to shut his eyes. But he didn’t.

It rang six times, then, “hello? What’s wrong?” His brothers voice. On the other end of the phone, not in the house with him.

“Where are you?” He asked, keeping his voice low.

“In my room,” Declan replied. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Your dorm room?”

“Yeah, what are you-”

“I’m at the Barns,” he interrupted, “and someone’s here. The door was unlocked and now I think someone’s upstairs.”

“Are you in the house?” Declan’s tone was serious. “Ronan,” he said urgently when Ronan didn’t reply straight away, “get out of the house.”

“I’ll call you back,” Ronan said and he hung up. If anyone was here, they definitely knew he was here as well now. But it was his house. He wasn’t the one who was out of place. He shouldn’t be scared.

He shoved his phone back into his pocket and began to climb the stairs. They groaned underneath his weight. Everything in this house groaned and creaked, he had never really noticed it as a child. He could barely see anything. _This is your home,_ he reminded himself. He crossed to the light switch and flicked the overhead light fixture on. He squinted, his eyes adjusting to being able to see again. The landing was empty. The doors along it were closed.

Slowly, he approached the first room that had been his parents bedroom. He turned the handle and pushed the door open. The light from the landing flooded across the carpet, leaving his shadow splattered in front of him. It was cold in the room and there was a draft. The window was open- no, the window was smashed in. Glass littered the floor and one curtain was hanging halfway to the ground. He hadn’t heard any glass shattering.

Ronan scanned the room and his eyes fell on the bed, it was unmade and covered in- something. There was something on the wall too. He braced himself and turned the light on.

The wall above the headboard was covered in what looked like news articles, some old looking from newspapers and some that looked like they’d been printed off the internet. The bed was covered in red. Ronan took an involuntary step backwards, but it wasn’t blood. It was too bright and had dried a rich, glistening cherry color. Some of it had spilled onto the floor. It was paint.

He moved closer to the wall and studied the articles. He scanned them quickly and terror tugged at his insides. The older articles were yellowed and old looking, stories about Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Nuclear war. The internet articles were not from official news sites, but rather blogs and gossip sites. Conspiracy theories. Theories about the soulmate marks. Theories about them being harmful, about them being tampered with, about cover ups.

His mother had mentioned Hiroshima that day in the hospital. _They’ll never see it coming until it’s inside them,_ she’d said.

Ronan backed away from the wall. It was like a murder scene and he felt tainted by it, though he wasn’t sure exactly what it meant. Who had broken in, and when? Were they still here? It was a message left for him or Declan no doubt. What did they want?

Something snapped inside him and he stormed through the house, opening doors and turning every single light on, upstairs, then downstairs as well. He looked under beds and in cupboards. He went down to the basement and pulled all of the dust sheets off the old furniture, he looked in every space, in every corner. But the house was empty.

He burst out onto the porch and circled around to the side of the house. He could see his parents bedroom window that had been smashed. A tree stood beside the house, it would’ve been an easy enough climb.

A cool breeze blew up over the gravel driveway and Ronan’s back felt cold. He hadn’t realized until now that he was covered in sweat.

He walked back to the front of the house and reluctantly called Declan. He had four missed calls from him.

“Ronan, are you alright?” He sounded frantic and there was another noise behind his voice. Ronan guessed that he was in the car.

“I’m fine, there was no one there,” Ronan replied and his voice threatened to shake. He was so cold.

“I’m here,” Declan said just as a flash of light caught Ronan’s eye coming up the drive. It was headlights. His stomach gave a spasm of panic, but it was Declan. It was just Declan. _Thank God, it’s only Declan._

Declan pulled up behind the parked BMW and cut the engine. As he approached, he was looking nervously up at the house.

“You alright?” He asked and Ronan turned from him and made towards the porch again.

Declan spoke as he followed him into the hallway and up the stairs. “Did you put all these lights on?” Ronan ignored him and stopped outside his parents bedroom door. He looked at Declan and Declan stared back.

“What’s going on?” He asked.

“Go in there,” Ronan told him. “Tell me I’m not losing my fucking mind.”

Declan entered the room and after a pause, Ronan followed him gingerly.

“What the- who did this?” Declan was wide-eyed and looking from the wall, to the bed, to the window and back again. He stepped forwards. “The bomb that has changed the world,” he read, “150,000 dead- Ronan, who was in here?”

“I don’t know,” Ronan spat, “but it’s about dad.”

Declan got closer to the wall, examining all of the paper that was stuck to it. 

“Me and Matthew went to see mom the other day,” Ronan continued, “and she thought- she thought I was dad… or at least, that’s what it seemed like.”

Declan turned to stare at him, his jaw clenched, listening.

“She mentioned Hiroshima. That’s World War II, right?” - Declan nodded - “She said that that’s what dad had said. That it would be like Hiroshima and that people wouldn’t see it coming until it was in them- inside them. I think she was talking about all of this soulmate shit and-”

“Can I ask you something,” Declan interrupted. Ronan was completely taken aback for a moment, but he nodded. “Do you think he was a bad person?”

“What, dad?” 

Declan nodded.

“No.” Ronan frowned. “Why would I think he’s a bad person? What he was trying to do, exposing the whole thing like that, that was right.”

“So you think he’s a hero?” Declan asked.

Ronan clenched his jaw. “He was a good man. What the hell are you on about? Are you seeing any of this?” He pointed to the bed and the wall. “Aren’t you bothered by this?”

“Of course I am,” Declan said, “it’s for me, after all.”

“Well what the fuck does it mean, then?” Ronan’s temper was rising rapidly. Declan was acting too calm about this whole situation. He turned back to face the wall.

“It’s a warning,” he said, “or a threat. I’m not quite sure.”

“From who?” Ronan demanded.

“Who’s your soulmate?” Declan shot back.

“What does that have to do with anything? Who’s the warning from? What the hell is going on?” Ronan’s whole body felt hot and prickly. He needed to get out of this room, out of this house, before he exploded. He turned away from his brother and crashed down the stairs and out of the front door. The night air felt hot all around him. He tried to take a few deep breaths like Gansey always told him to do. It was no good. He couldn’t catch his breath.

“Ronan.” Declan came out of the house. “Sit down for a second.” He took Ronan’s arm and pushed him gently down onto the bottom porch step, then he sat beside him. He instructed him to breathe in and out, in and out, in and out. Ronan felt himself beginning to calm down.

“I’m scared for you,” Declan said, his voice soft. “I’m always fucking scared for you- and for Matt.”

Ronan didn’t say anything, but his throat felt tight.

“It’s not what you think it is,” Declan went on, “he was- God, this is so difficult-” he buried his head in his hands, then looked up again, staring straight ahead- “dad wasn’t what you think he was. He discovered the mutation, but he didn’t try and fix it.“

“Shut up,” Ronan said, his voice rough with emotion. He had a bad feeling about all of this. “I don’t wanna know.”

“You need to know. It’s like you said before, keeping the truth from people makes them vulnerable,” Declan insisted, “please.”

“Don’t ruin him,” Ronan said and he knew he sounded like a child, but he couldn’t help it. All he had left of his father were the memories of him that he held close to his heart. He couldn’t stand the thought of them being tainted.

Declan shook his head and Ronan didn’t know what he meant by it. Then he began to speak.

“He messed with the chemicals, he figured out how to implant them and how to extract them and change them and turn them off. People died from it and he made millions.” Declan paused but Ronan said nothing, choosing instead to stare at his feet. He didn’t want to hear this. “Mom isn’t his soulmate, he just messed with her head until she got the marks and her brain was so fucked up that in the end, it couldn’t cope. After I found out, he did something- I don’t think I can-” he cleared his throat and Ronan looked up to see if he was crying. He wasn’t. “I only stayed for you and Matthew,” he finished.

Declan had spoken for barely a minute and in that short space of time, Ronan’s whole world had crumbled down around him. He felt betrayed. Everything he knew about his father, everything that had made him proud to be his son, disappeared in an instant. He felt guilty too when he thought of Declan. Declan who had been a boy and had known all of this and had had to deal with their father alone. He'd endured abuse and Ronan had been oblivious. Ronan thought now that perhaps Niall Lynch and Robert Parrish weren't all that different. But while Adam had known his father was a monster, Ronan had worshipped his like he was a hero.

“I was so relieved when I found out you’d got a mark,” Declan said, “and now you’ve got that one too.” He reached out to touch Ronan’s jaw, but Ronan flinched away and he let his hand fall again. “Please say something, Ro.”

“Don’t call me that,” Ronan spat and Declan sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m so sorry that any of this happened.”

“So who broke in, then?” Ronan asked. “If dad was the bad guy, who breaks into the bad guys house after he’s dead?”

“He had a lot of people working for him,” Declan explained, “Some of them have been trying to get in contact with me for a while... for bad reasons, but there are some who are… like allies, I guess. But I don’t know who left that message upstairs.”

“Allies? Please don’t tell me that you’re-” Ronan shook his head - “you’re not carrying on what he did, are you?”

Declan’s face creased in pain. “No, I’m not. I’m trying to fix what he did.”

Ronan got to his feet and started walking towards his car. 

“Where are you going?” Declan called after him.

Ronan paused and turned to face his brother again. “I can’t be here anymore.”

“Please don’t leave me alone with this,” Declan said and Ronan could hardly look at him, his voice was frantic, pleading. “I’ve dealt with it on my own for so long and it’s eating me alive.”

“I can’t,” was all Ronan managed to get out before he was practically running to his car. He felt something snap between them as he drove away. He was going to Hell for this surely, and the thing that snapped, unwound and unraveled and he drove as fast as he could to get away from the awful sensation. But he couldn’t escape it. It was in the car with him. It was inside his rib cage.

***

 

Ronan waited for Declan’s name to appear on the screen of his phone. He waited for the annoying buzz of incoming messages. He waited for Gansey to knock on his door and say, “Declan’s here.” But nothing happened.

“You’ve really fucked it up now,” he muttered to himself. He couldn’t sleep, not that he’d expected to be able to. He’s not sure if he wants to either, he doesn’t want to dream about his dad.

There was a light knock at the door and he lifted his head before saying: “come in.”

Gansey entered. He was wearing basketball shorts that, in theory, should have looked out of place on him, but he managed to pull them off just fine; and a black t-shirt that said: “It’s all in the execution,” underneath a picture of King Henry VIII of England. Noah got it for him last Christmas. Ronan thinks it’s terrible.

“I knew you’d still be up,” Gansey said and he settled at the end of Ronan’s bed.

“Knew you would be too,” Ronan said and he pulled himself up so that he could lean against the headboard.

“I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable,” Gansey started, “but I wanna know what’s going on.”

Ronan sighed. He didn’t know if he could say it all out loud. “It’s not that simple,” he said. He hoped Gansey would understand.

“I know,” Gansey said quickly, “or at least I can guess.” He waited.

Ronan took a deep breath, and told him everything. When he was done he felt deflated and he was in danger of breaking down. But it felt good to talk to Gansey about it, he’d been keeping things from him lately and it wasn’t right. Maybe Gansey could tell him what to do.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said and he leaned forwards to squeeze Ronan’s knee. “I’m worried though,” he added, “whoever broke into your house clearly knows everything, and it sure does sound like a threat to me.”

“I don’t want anything to do with it,” Ronan said, staring down at his hands.

“I don’t think you’ve got much of a choice,” Gansey said, his tone was apologetic and he shrugged.

“Did you see Adam today?” Ronan decided to change the subject.

“Yeah, he came over for a couple hours.”

“How is he?”

“He was okay,” Gansey said, “and he asked about you. About where you were.”

Ronan looked at Gansey through the darkness and something passed between them. “I think it’s him,” Ronan said.

Gansey just nodded. “Have you talked about it with him?”

“No,” Ronan admitted, “but he kissed me.

”Gansey smiled. “Really?”

Ronan leaned closer to shove his shoulder, but he was smiling too. He was so relieved to have a friend like Gansey and he ducked his head as he thanked him.

***

School the next day was agonizing. Adam walked the hallways feeling self-conscious and overexposed, even with Gansey beside him. People were staring, he wasn’t making it up. Things only got worse when he went to unchain his bike at the end of the day and Kavinsky was leaning against the railing, one hand placed possessively on the handlebars.

“That’s my bike,” Adam said.

Kavinsky lifted his hand and watched as Adam undid the padlock.

“Did you tell him I wanted to speak to him?” Kavinsky asked. Adam had almost completely forgotten about their encounter at the garage.

“Yeah, I did,” he replied, his mind falling predictably to the way that night had ended. Kissing Ronan. He schooled his expression, the last thing he needed was Kavinsky finding out about that.

“Good boy,” Kavinsky said with a tight, mocking smile. “Although maybe you’re not such a good boy. Look at your face. What did you do to get that fucked up?”

Adam refused to rise to it and turned his bike away.

“I’m just messing with you, Parrish,” Kavinsky said.

“Look,” Adam said, turning to look at him again, “if you’re after Ronan-”

“What’s going on?”

Adam and Kavinsky both turned to find Ronan himself standing a few feet away. He looked furious.

“Lynch.” Kavinsky smiled his name and Adam felt a twist in his gut that he wasn’t familiar with. Something in the back of his mind told him it was jealousy.

“You going home?” Ronan asked Adam, ignoring Kavinsky completely.

“No, I’ve got work,” he replied.

“Okay, I’ll give you a ride.”

So Adam found himself once again in Ronan’s BMW, driving to the pizza takeout place that was his second job.

“I’m not gonna ask if you’re okay, because I know how annoying that is,” Ronan said, “but I’m picking you up later. What time do you get off?”

“Midnight,” Adam said and for the first time, he didn’t feel like refusing the lift. His skin buzzed with the prospect of seeing Ronan later and predictably, it was the longest shift of his life.

The hands on his watch crawled in agonizingly slow circles and practically every customer had a complaint, or an extra request. When it got to 11:55pm, Adam was already changing back into his school shirt in the staff locker room and he was out on the curb by 11:59.

His heart leapt as one set of headlights approached, then went past. Then another. Then finally, he recognized Ronan’s car coming up the road.

It pulled up beside him and he got in. The interior was cool and well air conditioned, a relief after the sticky and humid night.

“How was your shift?” Ronan asked as he looked into his side mirror to watch another car pass before pulling out onto the road again.

“Do you want me to lie?” Adam asked, looking over at him. He watched a smirk grow on his lips.

“No, I can handle the truth.”

“It was shit,” Adam said.

Ronan nodded approvingly. “Nice. Did you manage to catch up on all your school work? Because I’ve got notes. I mean, they’re copies of Gansey’s notes, but it’s something.”

“Thanks,” Adam said, he meant it, “but I’ve got it all.”

Ronan nodded again. “So am I taking you home?”

Adam cringed at the sudden note of seriousness in his tone.

“Yes please,” he answered politely.

They were soon out of town and on the long strip of country road before they reached the trailer park. Adam had often wondered if it was so far out of town because Henrietta was secretly ashamed of it. Probably.

Then Adam was suddenly jolted to the side as Ronan braked and pulled up at the side of the road. They weren’t at the trailer park yet.

“What’s wrong?” Adam asked, “is it the car?” He leaned across to look at the dashboard in front of Ronan, then sat back again when he could see nothing wrong.

“No,” Ronan said, “I just- I don’t wanna get there yet.” He was starting at the steering wheel.

“Me neither,” Adam admitted. The air felt charged and alive.

“Everything’s really shitty at the moment,” Ronan said, “but when I see you, it makes things feel better and maybe that makes me selfish, but it’s the truth.”

“That doesn’t make you selfish at all,” Adam told him. “You make thinks better for me too.”

Ronan looked at him then, he looked unconvinced. “Really?”

Adam nodded and Ronan leaned towards him slightly and he took it as a silent invitation as he met him the other three quarters of the way.

It felt like kissing him again for the first time. He was aware of nothing but the pressure and sensation of Ronan’s lips, Ronan’s tongue, then the weight of Ronan’s body as he moved over the central console and threw a leg over Adam’s lap. He took hold of Adam’s face and kissed him harder, using his body as an anchor. He kissed down into him. He kissed him apart.

Adam tried to ignore the way his mouth and his jaw hurt from where Ronan was pressing into his tender skin. He distracted himself by pulling at the bottom of Ronan’s shirt.

“Off,” he said, breathless between kisses and Ronan pulled away wide-eyed and removed his shirt. He sat back, still in Adam’s lap, his back pressed to the dashboard and he watched with the same unbelieving expression as Adam studied his chest and his stomach with his fingers.

"Tell me if it's too much," he said.

"It's not," Ronan whispered and he leaned forwards again to catch Adam's lips and at the same time he pushed his hips down against Adam's and Adam gasped into his mouth. He'd only been with one girl and it had never felt like this. He pushed up, his hips meeting Ronan's again, the friction making him shudder.

"Adam," Ronan sighed, hot against his jaw as he pulled away from his lips and Adam's heart skipped a beat. Not Parrish, but Adam.

Adam's confidence rocketed and as Ronan's lips fell to his shoulder, he turned his head and kissed his neck. "I want you," he murmured against his skin.

"How do you want me?" Ronan asked, tilting his head so Adam could get a better angle at his neck.

"I wanna make you feel good," Adam said and his fingers left Ronan's chest to undo his zipper for him. Ronan gasped as Adam got his hand around him.

"Oh my God," he whispered and Adam began to move his hand up and down the length of him. He focused on this for a few moments, then with his other hand he pulled his own dick from his pants, causing Ronan to shift above him.

"Come closer," Adam said and Ronan leaned down slightly, hissing as his cock brushed up against Adam's. Then he licked his hand and took hold of Adam, jerking him off slowly.

"Touch me again or I'll die," Ronan said, practically pushing himself up against Adam again and Adam quickly obliged, pumping his hand to the same rhythm as Ronan was working on him.

"I'm gonna get it all over your car," Adam said and Ronan stared at him with his mouth open in a silent demonstration of pleasure, then he kissed him, his hand moving the whole time.

"Come on, Ronan," Adam said, "give me something."

"Yeah," Ronan said breathlessly, his hand getting lazy and slowing as he got caught up in what Adam was doing to him.

"Go on," Adam said, "you're there, aren't you? You're almost there."

He came, thrusting into Adam's hand and Adam realized he hadn't bargained for getting cum on his shirt tonight, but he couldn't bring himself to care at that moment because Ronan was panting and he used his newly slicked hand to work Adam all the way to the edge. He didn't mutter encouragement like Adam had, but he hardly needed it. The state of his shirt worsened, but he pulled Ronan into a heavy, sweaty kiss when he stopped reeling from the sensation.

"Fuck, your shirt," Ronan said when he pulled away.

"It'll wash out," Adam reassured him. He'd probably have to take it in the shower with him.

Ronan collected his own shirt from the driver's seat, pulling it on before sliding back over to sit behind the wheel.

"Well, I wasn't expecting that tonight," he said and Adam couldn't help but laugh. He hadn't expected it either. He wondered if he should be embarrassed, though it surely hadn't hit him yet. He felt good.

In a comfortable silence, Ronan drove him the rest of the way home, but tension built up again as they approached the double-wide. Ronan didn't cut the engine, but he turned to face Adam. "Asshole, thoughtful... That's you, isn't it?"

Adam nodded. "I think so."

"Well, that's good," he replied awkwardly and Adam was suddenly embarrassed. He'd been waiting for it to kick in. His shirt was sticking to him in patches.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said as he climbed out of the car quickly, "thanks for tonight."

Ronan smiled faintly, but Adam knew he was seconds away from trying to stop him. He shut the door and waved, then he turned and walked towards the trailer.

He was relieved to find that his parents were in bed and he quickly took a shower, scrubbing at his school shirt vigorously.

He got into bed and his whole body ached as it did every night since the incident with his dad, but something about falling asleep felt easier. His heart felt lighter, his thoughts were softer and he prayed that he would dream tonight.


End file.
